For some reason every guy I’ve talked to for the last couple days wants me to come to their room for a hundred bucks. I’ve got nothing against prostitution, but these guys are presumptuous and persistent and I’m starting to get pissed. Here’s a couple conversations I’ve had about a million times in the last few days.
Me, on stage, dancing.
Him: Hey girl, what’s your room number?
Me: Would you like a lapdance?
Him: Are you staying at the Super 8? Travel Host?
Me: I work out of the lapdance area only… would you like a lapdance?
Him: Huh? Where are you staying?
Or,
Him: What’s it take to get inside that? (pointing between my legs)
Me: *giggle* Sorry honey, I’m not professional, I’m just recreational.
Him: Three hundred?
Me: Fuck off.
Seriously, these are the times that I’m really glad I’m a stripperella and not a McDonalds employee, where you have to put up with peoples bullshit and not be rude to them.
I even had this conversation last night…
Him: So you’re at the Stupid 8, right? What’s your room number?
Me: Um, do you have a dollar? Cause if your gonna sit at my stage you need to tip.
Him: No I don’t. What’s your room number?
Me: It’s none of your business.
Him: Oh, no one told you? I’m y’alls pimp. I’m in charge of your finances.
Me: You’re deluded. Seek help.
What the hell are these people thinking?
So I got out my crocheting and sat at the bar hooking (with a crochet hook, that is) and waiting for a good regular customer. And some guy walks up to me and says, “hey girl, what’s your room number?”
Gah.
Gah!
what morons!
sorry to hear about vista problems. that really stinks!
what are you making these days in the world of stiching?