The girls at the club- allllll collectively decided to dislike me. I don't give a goddamn, because as soon as I walk in, I plop myself down next to some duder who's gonna shell out all night, who doesn't like lapdances and thinks he's the first person to suggest, Can I just give you the $$ to sit here and talk to you? I don't wanna go in there... and I'm like, yeah, I totally know, it's kinda weird, I'd totally rather talk to you here too, that would be cool... And THEN I don't have to give the percentage of it to the house. So at the end of the night there's the little list with our names and X's next to them for how many dances we did, which determines how much of our hardearned greenbacks we give up, I've got like, one, or three, or no X's... but anyhow... yeah, I just don't talk to them, at all, I come in dressed already under my hoodie and plop the F down.
So this inglorious ho' whose dancer name is so marvelously retarded and gross I will certainly leave it to y'all's imaginations, well the duder she was sitting with pointed at me, as I walked by, like Can you get that girl over here? And S--F-----, who was eating, a fucking hot dog, in the club, no F.N. joke, made an obscene gesture, and I was loaded up, so I walked over there and leaned on the table and smiled at her. And she goes
And I go, Hey!
And she goes, Can I help you
And I go, Sure!
And she goes, What?
And I go, I just saw, you makin a little gesture over here, is there a problem?
I wasn't making a GESTURE! Someone OVER THERE... made... like a gesture at ME, so I made a gesture back, I'm just sitting here eating a hot dog!
Okay! Have fun!
So then later while I was talking to a duder she came up to me again, with her spiked insane hair, which she just bleached, which is doing nary a damn thing for her, and like insane makeup, and little latex top and pudgy little boy body-- (I have to give it to her, she puts on quite a show, she can like climb up the ceiling like spiderman, and wears a blindfold and shit, but its not sexy, just.. nuts...) and says, Why did you come over to my table while I was talking?
Same reason you're here at my table now.
What, why, I wasn't even doing anything, I was just sitting there eating a hot dog-
I pretend like you're not here, you don't even exist to me-
I was just sitting there eating a hot dog
This little lady has been dancing here for YEARS and thinks herself quite the queen bee, and is always bitching and complaining. I'm over it. But she and the sexy girl are friends now, that's what they all do at the club, they become little best buddies like, what's that damn game called, where you circle 'round the chairs? Oh, Musical Chairs. yes. like musical chairs. and then talk smack about each other. it's some kind of stunted development high school bizarre objectifying stripper thing. I abstain.