I'm back

So I finally quit stripping (first it was the blogging, then it all came to a crashing halt), finals, mock trial, it all got in the way. Actually, I'll be honest, I quit because (1) I'm really bad a being a stripper and (2) I just didn't really like it all that much. So...what possessed me to try it again...

Well....it all started Saturday night. You'll all remember my friend from last year. He's still around. Anyway, we decided to check out a new strip club because one of his favorite porn stars was going to be there. Yeah, I just wrote that. It was even weirder when I said it out loud to invite other friends. So, we go to the club. It's pretty empty, but we figure it's early. The girls are really nasty, but again, we figure it's early... Well, the place doesn't fill up, the girls don't get hotter, and the porn star doesn't show, but we get drunk. And the drunker I get the more I start to realize, hey, I'm the hottest girl in the room. I could bank tonight. I talk to the DJ, then to a manager, and apparently (unlike last time), they didn't want me to start immediately.

A few days of soul searching (or masterful shaving later), I go in at 4 (ew, daytime stripper) on Tuesday. I'm a big girl, and I drive myself!

I roll in at 4, and there are about 6 guys out on the floor (sadly, you'll learn, as I did, this is the busiest the club gets all night).

I head to the back, and there are two pretty cracked out loooking chunky girls. Cracked out stripper #1 sits down next to me and asks if I have a boyfriend. Ok, maybe she's a nice cracked out chunky stipper. Ok, I'll bite..no, cracked out chunky stripper, I don't have a boyfriend. She tells me good, because everyone around there is pregnant. Huh, what? I look around...all those strippers, there's a good reason why they are chunky. Ew, that's one's a good 6 months pregnant. Then, luckily, the conversation shifts from my relationship status to what and how much the pregnant strippers can drink. phew...

So at this point all I can see is dollar signs, these girls are my competition? Who cares that I can't dance? Who cares that I'll likely deer in headlights it on stage, I'm the only one working who isn't pregnant!

It's late, and I have to be at school at 6:30 am tomorrow (I know, ick), so I guess I'll finish this later.