Tales from Da Club #22

It could probably go without saying that I make a lot of money off disgruntled husbands and unhappy marriages. 

The husbands’ gripes are both numerous and likely as old as the institution itself. One particularly amiable guy told me that his wife refused to be affectionate with him. They hadn’t had sex in over ten years, and he’d resigned himself to visiting strip clubs every now and then in order to receive physical human touch we all require in order to thrive.

“I’d tell her that I come to strip clubs,” he told me, “But she never asks where I go in the evenings.”

Another man proudly extolled his well-known family name and their collective wealth, but the more he drank, the more he admitted that he didn’t know if his wife was with him because she truly loved him or if she mostly just cared about living dat Instagram life. 

He showed me photos. She was drop-dead gorgeous; he was a normal dude. It seemed obvious to me that this marriage was brought to you by The Benjamins, but what do I know? And even if I were right, how could I possibly condemn?

Transactional relationships are both abhorrent to me and also what I do for a living.

Two man came in on the verge of a divorce looking for a quick fix. They both wanted my number and tried to convince me to see them outside of the club.

One of them had grand plans: he’d pick me up in in his Porsche, we’d go to III Forks for dinner, Miami next weekend and the Caribbean from there. 

“If you ever need help with anything at all, you let me know,” he told me several times.

I’ve never been invited to be a sugar baby before, but I have a feeling it sounds something like that. “My daughter desperately needs a computer!” I almost blurted out, but I checked myself. Life is too short to spend it with people you don’t really care about.

Instead I said, “If you’re unhappy with your marriage, dating a stripper on the side isn’t going to solve that.”

I have no desire to marry, but I have a lot respect for vows and commitments and the people who make them.

Men come to me to dance around the edges of their marriage vows. I make a lot of money off someone else’s pain. I lose no sleep over sleep over this. Those problems would exist with or without me. I also like to think my services are like a drug, offering temporary relief. 

And even if they don’t, I work two jobs. I’m too sleepy to feel guilty.

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