The Stripper Diaries

"There are a select few women that don’t give a fuck and are as cold as I used to be.  Women that tell you what you want to hear.  Women that suck you in, then spit you out.  Women that you fall for, then they put a six-inch stiletto through your heart.  These women are called strippers.

My first time in a strip-club was with a woman who to this day probably wishes she had never took me there.  That trip changed my life.  Where else can you find naked women swinging from poles at 11 a.m.? 

From the moment a woman starts stripping, she begins to master the skill of ‘hustling a sucker.’  Working a man for his last penny, then sending him to the ATM conveniently located right there in the club.  You can tell a ‘sucker’ when you see the guy who uses that machine.  He’s being worked over by a top-notch hustler.  His heart is in her hands, he’s in love.  I shake my head.  I was there once or twice.

Then I began to date strippers.  I studied them, screwed them, and learned how to hustle them.  Rule number one: Never fall in love.

You can take the stripper out of the club, but you cannot take the club out of the stripper.  They run the same lines… I have a boyfriend and I’m doing this to put myself through college.  Yeah, right!  You do this because you have three kids, a drug problem, and you live in a trailer with your sister and her five kids.  But that’s OK.  On that stage, you are a star!

-Enter the stripper diaries –

At first I sat by the stage in awe, tossing my money at the feet of some woman who goes by Portia, Jasmine, or Angel.  A friend of mine named Dave said, “Slow down boy, you’ll hurt yourself!”  Thanks Dave!  When I quit giving them attention, they flock around.  Reverse psychology?  I don’t know.  But this fucks strippers up.  They are attention junkies.  When they don’t get it, they do weird shit.  Like take you home and fuck your brains out.

I still remember the first one.  Cute girl.  Bounces up to me in the club and said she has a gift for me.  I take her number and call her the next day.  She has a nice condo, no kids, and is really going to college – amazing!  She drew a portrait of me.  This girl could draw.  She had some sort of an art scholarship, and she was good.  She had drawn a huge picture of me, and I paid her back with some sex, never called her back again.  Oh, and I kept the picture too.

I bring her up because that was the first stripper I took home.  There’s a better story in about the third one, or maybe it was the fourth?  Hmm.

Strip clubs are dark places.  They leave the lights down low for a reason.  Some of the women there are rough.  We say ‘Butterface’ like the body is smoking hot, but her face is… tired.

Meet Natalie.  Natalie was a bitch.  She didn’t like me.  Every time I was at the club she tried her best to cock-block me.  This pissed me off.  She was not hot, she was homely.  Like some chick from “Little House on the Prairie.”  I had no interest in her whatsoever.  The more she pissed me off I realized, ‘What better victory than to get her to fuck?’  So I start working on her.  The bitch breaks.  She comes home with me.

At this time I am living with a buddy of mine, renting a room.  He enjoys the stripper traffic, so my rent is basically nothing.  So I bring Natalie home.  The next morning I wake up, see her next to me and feel sick.  So I leave.  A couple hours later my cell phone rings.  It’s my buddy.

“Hey bro – what’s with the chick?”

“Sorry about that.  She hasn’t left yet?”

“No, but that’s cool – she’s swimming naked in the pool.”  Oh god.

He ends up screwing her too.  What a slut!  Wait, it gets better.  This guy breaks all the rules.  He lets her move in, then asks me to move.  Seems he’s falling in love with a hoe.  Tsk, tsk.  …So much for ‘Bros before Hoes.’ That’s such bullshit too, trust me!  My buddy turns out to be just another sucker.  He’s got two kids with her now.  She comes and goes and continues to fuck everybody but him.  Dumbass!

Meet Rachel.  Rachel was beautiful.  Our paths just seemed to cross at all the wrong times.  We would try to plan something and shit would always come up.  Then one day she doesn’t work the club anymore.  About a year later, a friend of mine calls and asks me to go to a concert with him.  The show is going to be at a club called Headlights.

We meet there and the show is great.  Toward the end of the night, the shooter girl passes by with her tray of shots.  I do a double-take.  It’s Rachel, wearing this little outfit, selling rum shooters.  She comes right up and asks what we’re doing.  The three of us decide to leave.  We just walk right out the front door.  Rachel is carrying this huge tray of shooters.  We jump into my truck and slam all the shooters, then she uses all her tips and rents a hotel for us.  The three of us.  And that was one of the craziest nights ever.  I left at 5 a.m. to go home.  Rachel and my buddy stayed in that hotel for three days smoking crack – wild!     

My parents live in Northern Michigan.  During the winter I try to get home to see them and do some skiing.  One winter I head up North and end up feeling terrible.  I’m hooked on 10 different drugs and run out while visiting my parents.  My brain’s not working properly and I’m making terrible decisions.  Meet Karen.

Karen and I hung out occasionally.  She was on about 8 of the 10 drugs I was on.  So I’m thinking I’ll have Karen fly to my parents’ and join me.  She’ll be my drug mule.  Trouble is I have to sell this to both Karen and my parents.  I call Karen.

“Hey babe, what’s up?”  Mmmhmm…

“Listen, how would you like a snowy getaway from city life?”  Mmmhmm…

“I know it sounds cold, but it will be tons of fun.  Plus, I’m here!  I wouldn’t lie to you…and you can meet my family!”  Great, great!

Get your plane ticket.

(Now the parents.)

This is going to sound really bad, but this was how I operated.

Mom.  Listen.  I have a friend that is going through some difficult times.  We were on the phone this morning.  I was telling her what a nice time I was having with my family.  She said she sure wished she had somewhere to get away, life’s been tough lately.

“Mom, what do you think about her coming up here for a couple days?”

My mom has a huge heart.  I was trying to use this to my advantage.  The only problem is that Mom also knows she has a smooth-operator for a son.  So 99 Questions begins.

Note my smooth-operator skills are beginning to dim because I’m starting to withdraw.

Slowly, Mom begins to crack the case.  I’m getting a No.  Something about, “I’m sure she’s a real nice girl, but we’re not putting your stripper friends up at our house.”

Smooth operator’s mind hard at work.  There’s a *hot stripper with my drugs buying a plane ticket.  What to do??

Thank God for Holiday Inn.

Women have come and gone all my life.  Writing these stories has reminded me of how shallow I used to be.  Perhaps I am still a little shallow – I have laughed many times as I put this together.  I hope you also have had a laugh.  Maybe I’m not the only shallow guy out there.

To all you strippers:

You devote your life to hustling men for their last dollar.  …Men who leave their wives at home and come with high hopes of taking you home, but never will.  …Men who are suckers  for pain and will come back over and over again.  They say a sucker is born every day.  As long as that’s the case, you will always be a star.

Rock on, working girls!"