No matter how much the rappers romanticize it, love in da club is never a good idea.
If you’re a client, you will spend all your money.
If you’re a dancer, you won’t make any.
I learned this the hard way at the club last night. He was sweet and humble, with the face of Josh Brolin and the soul of an artist, and I didn’t stand a chance DON’T JUDGE ME, MOTHERFUCKERS.
He said he didn’t normally buy dances but said he’d make an exception for me. I talked him into it because *I* wanted it.
That was the worst lap dance I’ve ever given. It turns out if I like you, I get shy and awkward. Geez, who fucking knew?
He was passing through on his way back to Oklahoma. I happily sent him on his way because mixing love and pleasure makes me a broke-ass dancer.
I scored his number though 🙂