Strippers Are Just Workin’ Girls Like You and Me

The stripper world fascinates me. The stripper as a species is amazing. Turn it on and turn it off. As long as you’ve got money, it’s on. They’re your best friend, you think they might want you. But once that cash runs out, they’re out of there like a 7 year old when church is over.
 
 There are strippers of all shapes and sizes. Everybody’s into something different. High end strip clubs where every girl is the hottest girl you’ve seen, and low end clubs, where strippers go to die.
 
 There are strippers with bodies you can bounce a quarter off of. There are strippers who have been bouncing back too many quarter pounders over the years.
 
 Living in San Diego, we are less than an hour flight to Vegas. I know for a fact there are a lot of girls that make the trip out to strip and pay their monthly bills for a weekend’s work. If you get on the Vegas flight on a Fri night, these girls stick out like a stripper on a flight to Vegas. Sunglasses, hot bod, fake boobs, usually little luggage. Who needs clothes when you’re gonna be naked most of the weekend? They just need to leave some room for all the dollar bills they’re bringing home from pretending to like guys the whole trip.
 
 On one Vegas trip, my friend and I decided to go check out Glitter Culch downtown. It’s the place with the big screen outside, across from the Golden Nugget. We used to like to stay at the Nugget. Made us feel like old school high rollers.
 
 The greeter outside tells you to check it out as there’s never a cover. Of course there’s a two drink minimum. You’re gonna pay $6-$10. Order a bottled beer. Everything else is gonna be watered down. So we get in there and order two Coronas each. Probably cost us $32 alltogether. And the waitress wanted a tip.
 
 So we both pull out our money wads to pay for the drinks. I used to use a money clip with the big bills on top, the little ones inside. I probably had a couple hundred in 20s, my friend probably twice that much. I’m not a big gambler. In Vegas at least.
 
 We might of well have tossed a bloody seal into a great white shark tank.
 
 Two strippers instantly appeared by us like magic. Like magical tag teaming twins. We exchanged pleasantries, then the girls got down to business. My friend doesn’t accept lapdances, I used to. One of the girls asked me if I was interested in a dance. I was.
 
 Now, in the real world a lapdance is a glancing rub type of thing, a little more friendly than a floordance. Vegas in so many ways is not the “real world.” There are fewer rules. Most lapdances are topless, and used to cost $20 a pop. Not sure what it is now, with inflation. The word “dance” is open to interpretation depending on the girl, the club, and the bouncers.
 
 Some clubs have very strict rules, and very strict bouncers. I’ve heard there are some clubs where anything goes for the right amount.
 
 As far as the Vegas lapdance, some girls dance, some grind, some just dry hump. It’s a crapshoot.
 
 Either way, it’s fun having a superhot chick topless in your lap.
 
 So the girl was pretty hot, I had some cash, so I thought I’d go take a walk. She grabbed my hand, and one of my beers and took a big swig. She took me over to this couch area and asked me if I knew how things worked there.
 
 “How do things work here?” I asked.
 
 She told me “It’s 3 songs for $100, and I’m worth it.”
 
 She might have been worth it, but I just wanted a taste. Like a sample.
 
 “That’s too much. What else you got?” I asked her.
 
 This really pissed her off. Her demeanor instantly changed. We all like our strippers detached, but not bitter and angry. “Well we could go back to your table and I could give you a table dance, but that’s boring…”
 
 At this point if I agreed to the table dance, she was going to MAKE it boring. That’s like getting a burger and telling the guy at the window “take this back and get me another one ASSHOLE!” He’s gonna spit on your meat. She was going to spit on my meat, and not in a good way.
 
 So I told her “no thanks” and she stormed off to get her twin. At least she left my beer.
 
 Back at the table, my friend was doing no better. After flashing his wad around, he told the other girl he had no money…to “spend on strippers.” She asked him if he had money to gamble, and he said that was what he was going to spend his money on.
 
 About this time this really foreign sounding girl sidles up and sits by me, the easy mark. She starts whispering sweet nothings in my ear. She talked for a few minutes but all I remember is “if you go in the back with me, I’ll let you suck my nipples.”
 
 Well, we all know there’s no sex in the champagne room.
 
 So this girl was trying to lure me back to the VIP room with the lure of sucking on her nipples. Obviously this had worked for her before. I mean you gotta have a pitch I guess.
 
 First thought was “I am NOT going to suck on nipples that have been sucked by God knows how many guys today.” For me to do that, we’d have to tape off the block, bring in a hazmat team, and do some industrial nipple cleaning. I mean I was concerned about the seats, not to mention the nipples. We might be able to save some time by having a sandblaster come in and work on those nips, but it just wouldn’t be a good use of time. I had to be back to work on Monday.
 
 So I passed.
 
 All in all, bless their hearts, a lot of these girls are in some serious shape. They have to be. Their body is their business. A gym membership is a business investment for them. It’s not like me who pays monthly for the gym but probably couldn’t tell you how to get there.
 
 I mean you see some of these girls and you think, “what do they EAT!?” “What’s their workout regime!?” I want a body like a high class stripper. I met some pretty amazingly hot strippers back in my strip club days. Like I said, the cream of the crop is in Vegas. I was told by many of them that the Stairmaster was the preffered workout machine. Good for tummies, thighs, legs, and buns. All good for a stripper. 
 
 So over the last decade or so, there’s been this “stripper aerobics” trend. This is basically a workout using stipper moves and poles, sometimes taught by strippers or ex strippers, or tied together in one package called Carmen Electra.
 
 I actually don’t know how the whole stripper aerobic classes work, but I would HOPE they only let hot girls in the class. Big girls, go take spin.
 
 I wonder if you have to pick a stripper name when you register. Maybe there’s a big whiteboard at the gym with the names available and taken. The list contains the names of seasons, spices, or characters from Disney movie, or a few adjectives like Chastity, Happiness, or Coco.
 
 “OH, I’m sorry…Autumn and Cinnamon are taken, but Jasmine and Thumper are still available…”
 
 I would imagine a lapdance from a stripper named Chastity is probably liked getting tattooed by a guy with no tattoos.
 
 Then I bet you get your stripper aerobic mat. You can put your mat wherever you want, but it’s extra if you want to be up front and close to the teacher. There’s also a two water minimum every class, charged at the door. You get your two waters at the same time, when you choose you put your mat down.
 
 The first few classes are probably the basic moves, the Britney Spears floor crawl, the scissor sisters leg spilt, the pelvic pushups, and so on. Then there’s pole work. The basic swing, she slide, the roll, the grease.
 
 Then I wonder if there’s a class where the girls go out into the gym and hit up the other people working out for dollar bills. “Hi…so did you see me in the dance room?” You wind up giving them a dollar just to go away.
 
 It must be tough giving a lapdance on a stationary bike or treadmill.


Originally published at pknieval.blogspot.com on April 13, 2016.