Once upon a time there was a dancer named Ginger who worked at a strip club right by an armed forces base. I 'm not going to say which one or which kind, I will say that Ginger is me. I have since changed my name.
Why? Because I get called Ginger all the time anyway and I wanted something new. Deal.
So, one night Ms. Ginger was working per usual and she spied, from stage these two high and tight haired men (boys) in the dark side corner of the club from her stage. She may have been bent over holding the pole looking through her legs. Detail, unimportant.
After doing her two song set (gosh I love two song sets, I miss those on weekdays) she stepped down and went around for her tips.
As she got closer to the dark corner she decided to stay and talk to the two young armed force men (boys). One was tipping for the other though I'm not sure why, maybe they had a butt buddy love thing going on (no judgment, just should have seen the first red flag...)
I sat with the paying one, not because he had deep pockets, but because I found him cutest. We talked for a while, I asked him questions about himself and really started getting antsy wantin to ask him for his number. While I was onstage he was talking to a different girl and got a dance from her. Red flag number two. He told me how he had just come back from Afanistan and had tried dating this girl he had met on Facebook but she had expected to stay the night and he didn't like moving that fast with a girl. He said he didn't kiss on the first date and I believed him. Remember he said first date because I ignored hat part.
We chat some more and I figure out a way to get him my number. (On a dollar I put in his pocket.) He texts me later and everything seems cool.
We plan to hang out the next night and by that I mean we plan to sneak me onto base (yes I had to be sneaked in... red flag again?) so that we can just hang out and possibly watch a movie.
I agree because I can't have anyone where I was living at the time (with my mom... yeah, I was that cool). I get down to where I am going, we sneak me in and we start a movie.
I'm not sure if we watched the whole thing before he started making moves but that doesn't really matter. I'm not sure I even remember what movie we watched, probably a war movie. Cliche.
We end up kinda making out, but not really. Actually it was the best tease I've ever had and I was totally cool with it (so there want more from your lapdance custies!) and then I had to leave. I think I said something cute (aka dumb) like, I want you to still want to call me tomorrow when he asked how far we should go. So he stopped and I left all riled and out of sorts and giddy. (read: stupid)
Next night, or maybe two nights later I get a bad feeling about this dude because he's being short with me via text (yes I can tell) and I'm bummed. Lust drunk or something. Eventually we make plans to hang out after I get off work and I'm stoked. So stoked and excited and still apprehensive.
I call him to see if he wants to meet me to get some food, he says no (another red flag, not hanging out outside of his place) and so I get myself food and then go his way. It's a bit of a hassle because I have to get a permit or something to be there (yay military places!) and I get a tad lost (again, yay military bases) and I'm slightly frustrated and he's not helping and finally I get him to answer the phone and give me his info and I remember laughing with the person manning the permit office about his last name but oh well.
I get to his room, finally and he's drunk (great) and wants to watch another movie I think. We make out for a second, he pushes it a tad farther this time, I'm game for some reason and soon my clothes are on but his pants are below his happy area. His doing not mine. He's out of it, aka drunk and I, like a dumb girl, give him what he wants. In giving him a helping hand or two I take off my rings. This will be important later I assure you.
He finishes, lucky him, tries in a fumbly drunk way to help me out but doesn't do anything right, nothing like the great tease he was before and he starts to fall asleep so I leave. I wave goodbye to his buddies in the other room and take off feeling good and horrible at the same time.
The next couple of days I hear nothing from him and it's about this time that I realize my rings are no where to be found. Yup, left those suckers there. UGH! So I text him about that saying something like hey, cleaned my room, looked everywhere do you have my rings. No answer.
I talk to my friend Jane who I worked with about this shithead not answering me and she comes up with a master plan. This is why you never make an enemy out of a stripper:
Plan of attack according to Jane:
Go to a taco cart, a realll sketchy one, eat a bunch of tacos, take some exlax, go to his door and shit on his porch.
I think she was a little more than slightly serious. While I totally appreciated her want to help me out my inability to publicly defecate made me question the plan. I'm shy when it comes to poop, so sorry.
A week later, still no answer and I text his friend I had met that same fateful night. I asked him about the rings, he responded in less than an hour saying that Jared (that's the guy's name I'm not even going to change it that mother fucker) did in fact have my rings.
OH REALLY?!
Now I was really sad I didn't have the courage to publicly shit anywhere. That pussy had my rings, got my text and just decided he didn't need to answer?!
I gave him head! He came! I didn't! Least he could do was say yeah, I'll drop them by your club, I don't want to see you again.
That would have been hurtful but better than the next month I had to spend getting them back.
It turned out that his friend tried to get them back to me but was going on leave so he left them with Jared the scared scared little boy. Once he got back Jared left for leave and I guess had no way of letting his friend get the rings.
THEN one fine night at work these two guys look at me like they know me. They ask if I remember them and it dawns on me all of a sudden. These boys were in the other room the night I left my rings. I probably looked like I was going to kill them. I figured they were in on the whole thing and I was such a joke around base.
Nope, they thought I was hot and both wanted to get with me. Friends said I should have slept with one of them for revenge but I'm not good at revenge sex and so I decided not to stoop to the pussies level of idiocy.
I did get my rings back from one of them finally and it just serves as a great reminder to NEVER, and I mean NEVER take a custie (no matter if he gets dances or not) home with you.
- The only semi embarrassed, D
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