Thursday, October 31, 2002 I've been neglecting this poor infant blog so severely because I've been in a certain small southern city with heavy ties to the tobacco industry. Oddly enough, it's not my home town, which also matches that description. It's the new home of the Hawaiian, my mate's best friend from retard college. She's a stripper now.
She's already getting a following, even though she's only been at the club a couple of months. The other strippers are jealous, and suspicious, too. They've had problems with narcs in the past, and since the Hawaiian has neither children nor a crystal meth habit, they're not about to just befriend her. They sometimes do small, vicious things like steal her curling wand.
She's a beautiful girl, and she really can work a crowd, but she's too goofy to be a really hot stripper. Like, she'll climb to the top of the pole and then not really be able to get down and just kind of be stuck there til she gradually slips. I'd never been to a "show club" before, but I'd never had a friend in show business before either. Also, I'm 21 now, and even though I don't really want to go buy beer or what have you, I do want to enjoy new priveleges. Maybe they would have let me in if I was over 18, but I'd like to think not. Also, no cover charge for ladies! You get to go and watch a friend gyrate, and better still, you get to watch the doofuses who go intothose places. And you get to stare. All I want to do in life is stare at people.
I'm not a voyeur. That place was about as sexy as a coin laundry, and probably contained about the same cross section of people. But I could have stared for hours. I did, actually, as did the mate. We were both particular impressed by this one girl who looked like she was about 12 years old and bored as shit. She did some ninja shit on the pole. She's slingshot around it by her legs and then slide down head-first. Ridiculous shit.
No one really danced, per se. It was more about wiggling.
More happened this week, but maybe I'll post more later. I've put a couple of my underlings (how fucking penny ante are you if you're *my* underling, by the way?) in charge of fixing typos, and I'm afraid that they're going to put beans up their noses or choke on a penny or something if I leave them alone too long. posted by Frenz | 10/31/2002 03:16:00 AM
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