The other night, it was a Saturday on Labor Day weekend... and I was sitting at my usual spot at one of my clubs and this guy comes up. I don't know what started the joking or talk or whatever but before he came up I had been in a decent mood despite the fact that the night was not lucrative.
So, man with floppy hair, glasses, hawaiian shirt with man tits and belly (obviously manageable, not a condition or proportional at all) and I are talking, I tell him my name and he says it's a mouthful. Can I just take a second and tell you it's a two syllable name... yeah. It's quite easy. No it's not Star, but shit dude, we can't all be Tragic. Too bad he didn't meet me when my name was Catastrophe... pretty sure that's 4 syllables. Stupid ass.
So, even after that I'm being nice and smiling and he sees I have red hair and asks if the curtains match the drapes...
Dude, the questions is does the CARPET match the drapes... CARPET is what is on a floor. Curtains and drapes are the same thing.
I tell him no, because there is no carpet, I shave like most in the industry, not because most in the industry do but because I like the look at the feel better.
He tells me he likes/prefers a really wild bush. This man is serious. He asks if he can confess, I don my robes.
No, no robes, moving on. I say of course and he says he really likes the idea of the bushes mashing and interweaving together. That's what really gets him going.
Great, so now my mental image of your junk is basically a mushroom hiding in a huge patch of moss. Sir, did you have to? Please put a $20 down if you're going to make me think about that.
I saw that each has their own interest (still in a flirty and nice and smiley way) and then he talks about how his martini is too dirty. He asked for it dirty but he says she put a lot of olive juice in it. I look at him (and mind you I really don't drink but I have specifically asked what it means when a martini is extra dirty) and say that ordering the drink dirty or extra dirty means more olive juice.
He then agrees that the awful drink is his mistake and says he wanted it a different way and then remembers that to get it that way you have to order it wet, not dirty.
Yeah asshole, good job at trying to make a drink sexual and seem sophisticated.
Asshat.
Somehow, after that, we get onto the topic of evolution and how we came from fish...
oh yes,
we talked about vegetarianism.
I said I was vegetarian for some reason and he asked if it was to save the cute little animals, I said it was for health, society and animals (because those are really my reasons) and he went on this mini tirade about women who go vegetarian because of the cute little animals and how we can eat snakes too and lalala this man likes to hear himself talk. I say something about how fish aren't cute (because unless they are brightly colored I don't think they are cute... catfish? not cute) and he says they are and that we come from fish. He specifies the lung fish.
I say for shits and giggles that I thought we came from monkeys so then he says no, before that. So I ask if the monkeys and Neanderthals came from this lung fish and he then goes off about how Neanderthals are a branch of homo erectus/homo sapien (and no i don't mean a gay erection) line and that we do not come from them and I was trying to say it was a part of our evolution and he was talking over me (which is a HUGE pet peeve of mine) and saying "honey honey honey honey honey I'm a microbiologist, neanderthals are a different branch lalala" while I'm saying "I don't like you" and "don't fucking call me honey" in a more moderate tone.
He thinks it's still all fun and games and I'm fucking pissed.
1) Don't talk over me
2) Don't interrupt me unless it's friendly banter and I know you
3) Don't show off your perceived male dominance with either of the above options
4) Don't think you're smarter than me... you look like shit and clearly don't have a girlfriend and are complaining about a drink you ordered. You're not smarter than me.
I'm sure there are more don'ts but I'll just move on.
I look at my friend and give him the "this guy is a dipshit look" while ignoring the dipshit as he's trying to spout more information my way.
He then says I'm the smartest person he's met in a strip club. I thought he was talking about my friend who is smart as well. He says no, he's talking about me, even though he had just finished "honey"ing me out of my fucking mind and sneaking in that he was a microbiologist one more time.
I was served garlic toast during this interaction and ate it as he talked trying to ignore him. After I was done he decided to tell me I was really going to need some mints as I'm opening my purse to get some mints out.
By this time I hate the ugly bastard and so I say, "this coming from a man drinking a dirty martini." He says that he knows his breath is bad but he doesn't have to worry about it and I do have to worry about mine.
While the basis of this is true it is not something that I suggest telling ANY woman. I don't care if we are strippers or prostitutes... don't tell us how to do our job. If you don't like what we have, dirty, stinky, garlic breath and all, go away. We have to deal with your stinky, pudgy, creepy, loser ass and we don't get paid NEARLY enough to do so and we still keep a smile on our face. Would you say that to a girl you are trying to sleep with? No? Don't say it to me.
I get it, you think because you have the money you get to tell us what to do...
NOPE!
This is how it goes... we put on our show, the one we decide on, and you pay if you want to watch and if you don't like it you look the other way, keep your mouth shut, drink your disgusting drink and leave us alone.
My name was called why he was justifying why he got to have smelly breath and so I walked off.
For some insane reason (I guess he was a bit thick) he followed me to my stage and watched my stage set.
I ignored him as much as I possibly could.
I probably could have gotten some dances out of him but by this point I wanted to shove my heal through one eardrum and out the other and so it wouldn't have worked out well. I can't hide hate from my eyes as well as most strippers.
He tried to talk to me again after the stage set and I just wasn't having it so he finally went away and left me be. Smartest thing he did all day I think!
So there you have it, another tale of idiocy...
-D
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