My return to stripping came as suddenly as did its brief hiatus. It was seriously the kind of situation a stripper could only wish for. A perfect customer with deep pockets and low expectations.
While I was cocktail waitressing, I met a customer who became fixated on the idea of getting lap dances from only me. Every time I would return to his friends’ table with drinks, he would keep asking. I sat and talked to his group a little. He wouldn’t even buy the other girls a drink. He was extremely polite and complimentary but would not spend money on any of the tons of strippers working at the time. It was a full house and he only wanted me.
I told him that there was no way I would be allowed to dance while I was waitressing. He told me to ask anyway. I told him I wouldn’t even bother to ask unless he bought at least one hour in VIP and took care of my house fee. He agreed. There were plenty of other waitresses working so the boss gave me permission to dance.
The guy was thrilled.
And I was thrilled to make seven times what I would have made serving drinks.
In the dim red light of the VIP room, the customer was well behaved and completely head over heels for me. He kept telling me things like I’m a very good and very interesting person. He also told me that I’m so beautiful that I should model and that whoever has me is a lucky bastard. Hearing that is a really weird feeling because in real life I feel funny-looking, and like an overall burden in the lives of my closest acquaintances. I feel like I’m a disappointment to the people who love me. It’s nice to be reminded that I’m valuable and attractive in many ways.
It’s really F’d up that I have to find this kind of reassurance in the back room of a titty bar.
He purchased another half hour with me before his bank’s fraud protection kicked in. Fraud protection will ruin your day sometimes. He apologized for taking up my time. I congratulated him on his upcoming wedding and I sent him on his way.