It's been a while, I just have not found my muse for a while. During a recent Sad Bastards gathering at Camelot it came to me. Over the past couple of years I have been refining my approach, get the most bang for the buck. Here are a few of my personal rules of engagement.
1.) If the dancer is up on stage, I will not make my approach until she is completely naked. I have seen many a man, make the premature move. If I am going to give the bird and extra buck or two, I will have bare breast, ass and snatch in my face.
2.) When the dancer is done and comes to the table, I have devised a move that guarantees contact 99% of the time. I fold the dollar, no more than a dollar, long wise. When she pulls her garter belt open I make an backhanded approach from below. I also stutter with the money, to give me dirty contact with her upper thigh. The only way they can avoid this is to have their money evenly distributed all the way around. Most of those broads are either too stupid or too big of sluts to bother with this.
3.) If the dancer is to earn more than one dollar per dance, she better work for it. Don't go up and start nodding off and doing the heroin stare. Woman, you better work that pole and do some gymastics type shit. Also, when you come to my table, rub my back.
4.) If I see some 40 year broad who should of hung up the g-string 10 years ago, wait until she is about half way through her dance and go to the resteroom. Save your money for those who deserve it. As a consumer that is the only way for my voice to be heard.
So in summary, I am a sad man. So fucking what. I have my own kids to support, those broads can find another man to support their own. I need to make my $25 go a long way (I also just milk the same drink the whole night, fuck paying $8 for a Diet Coke). I assume that most of those reading this post already adhere to at least a couple of my rules and I hope that a few others can be of use in the future.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
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