Lots of stuff happened last night. But by far, my favorite moment was dancing for the guido rolling balls.
The main way I make money at work is by noticing whose noticing me. If someone shows interest, I walk over and say hi and gauge if they’re interested in buying a dance or a private room. I was doing my rounds and noticed this guy noticing me. So I said hi and he showed the tell-tale signs of MDMA use. His jaw was chewing and clenching. Initially I thought maybe it was coke, but it became very clear that he was rolling pretty hard on Molly.
I asked him if he wanted a dance and he said yes. His friend seemed a bit anxious, but I think they figured a dance wouldn’t hurt him nor his wallet too much. So I sat him down on a chair. He couldn’t stop telling me how beautiful I was. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. He was a young, cute, and heavily tattooed guido with a huge fucking smile on his face. I said “you can’t do that! you have to button it back up” and he responded with “no, it’s cool!” So I re-buttoned the middle button. He didn’t seem to protest nor notice too much.
I started dancing for him. I asked him if he was rolling and he asked me if I wanted some. I said, I’d love some but I can’t do it at work. He said “yes you can.” I was like “ok, I’ll find you later to get it” with a smile. I have learned that it’s better to say “yes” to most everything a guy wants, especially if he’s fucked up. When a guy’s totally fucked up on drugs, he’s definitely not an undercover cop, so you’re pretty safe. You avoid arguments and fulfill fantasies by agreeing to everything.
Normally I’d be upset if a customer was grabbing me too much during a dance, but it’s different when someone’s on MDMA. I love people on MDMA! I was dancing for him and he was hugging me in a sweet way, which I really enjoyed. But I couldn’t let him hug me too much or the bouncers might bother us, so I kept it at bay. He was grabbing me a bit as well, but that was manageable because he was so mashed.
He kept on telling me how much he wanted to eat my pussy… and my boobs. And all I could think was “yeah, you probably do, because eating pussy on MDMA is awesome, but that’s never going to happen.”
I wasn’t going to hustle him for another dance because that would be taking advantage of a nice drug user. And I’m not a heartless bitch. Plus I had to go on stage. So he paid me and I left vibing off his energy, and taking pleasure in knowing that I was a highlight of someone’s drug trip.
girl: “Tonight I had three Xanax and 10 drinks.”
me: “How are you standing”
girl: “I don’t know, but I know I didn’t have an anxiety attack.”
I track my menstrual cycles and I’m at my “fertile” point right now. I tend to do better at this time and make more money because it’s much easier to captivate customers. Pheremones?
Last night I started out giving a lap dance to a gorgeous young Private Equity banker from Berlin. He saw me on stage, and really liked me so his colleagues paid for a dance. When I danced for him, I noticed that he had a large firm erection, and he wanted me to feel it and pressed me into it while I was dancing on his lap. He was very much my type–tall, lean, fit, nice bone structure, great skin, broad smile–so I was into the fact that he was getting off on me dancing for him. I grinded on him a little bit. It was hot. I love it when there’s good chemistry between me and a customer.
He talked about going upstairs. But it’s hard to sell Germans on the VIP room because it’s cheaper and you get to have sex with the girls in Germany. He wasn’t sufficiently sold and left. I was sad because he was really fucking cute and very much entranced by me. Too bad!
I danced for these data tech finance guys that were closing a deal the next day with some big commercial bank. They suggested bringing me to the meeting to distract the commercial bank guys. I thought, yes, why aren’t I making deals? Finance isn’t brain surgery and I’m probably smarter than them anyways… wait, but I’m not a guy so I can’t join the boys’ club. That’s why I’m not making deals with the boys and instead I’m dancing for the boys.
I ended up making most of my money off an older, less attractive but very charming and rich German man. We spent some time in the VIP room with a bottle of Veuve Rose. He said he was less interested in sex than just hanging out, and we had a good repore. I was kind of sad I couldn’t, like, give him a hand job–not everyone gets off on me grinding on them through their pants, after all. He was nice and it would have made him happy and it’s not really a big deal to me anyways, especially if I’m being treated with respect. Furthermore, I don’t really see the difference between making someone climax from grinding versus giving a hand job. Maybe I should start working at another club where doing that won’t get me fired and will increase my earnings.
He invited me out to dinner tonight but never got back to me. I like going out to dinner. Too bad. Maybe we could have had a SD arrangement. At least I had an ok night at work in the end. I needed it. There were a lot of VIP room activity, but it was slower than it should be in November–less customers, more girls. Even the taxi driver on the way home mentioned how slow it was for November. What is going on? Will next month make up for it? I hope so.
Frustration level: 2/10 – The night was fairly profitable, there wasn’t a lot of dead time,and I was treated well by customers- it was a low frustration night.
Exhaustion level: 4/10 – I didn’t kill myself, but I did stay at work till 4.
Hangover level: 3/10 – Drinking 3 glasses of champagne on an empty stomach is rarely a good scene, even if I do eat a chicken breast and salad after work. I woke up at 1 in the afternoon, groggy and sluggish, but without a headache. I laid in bed for another hour. I’m potentially too tired/cracked out to work tonight.