Although I feel like I have little to say about stripping and what not these days, it’s high time I hopped on this blogging shit.
Firstly, I’ve been meaning to review some New Orleans clubs. My memories of Deja Vu, Penthouse, Rick’s, Stilettos, Rick’s Sporting Saloon and Hustler are so stale I can’t recount much (same shit, different toilet), but let me tell you about a little place called The Corner Pocket…..
I’m a supporter of The Pocket, a gay club; their strippers would sometimes come in to my club and throw down tips. My co-worker and I even wanted to buy their T-shirt and cut it up sexy to give them free advertising.
But, it’s a strange place. A hole in the wall, according to my gay friend who introduced me to it. There’s no real stage, just guys awkwardly moving around the bar dancing for singles. I’ve met some super nice dudes there, many of whom will claim they’re just “gay for pay” but it feels like a place whose business model means no money for their strippers unless the strippers meet people outside work to do…..whatever.
Most of the guys there are coherent, young and fresh, reasonably sober without any lifestyle scars and lucid. But this one really depressing dude broke it down.
“How do you guys make enough money when there’s no space for lap dances or VIP?”
“Privates.”
“Meaning?”
“Meeting people at their hotels.”
“Don’t you feel like that’s kinda risky?”
“You can always walk out of a room.”
(But can you?)
This guy was super fucked up and I’m sad to say I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s dead now. He had relocated his family from Michigan and showed me a picture of them all with shaved heads that creeped me the fuck out. “Yeah, there’s so many niggers down here, I made sure they all shaved their heads.” Whhhhhattt?
He proceeded to break down the street value of Klonopin, Adderall and the like and tried coaxing me into touching his cock. At The Pocket, every guy’s got their junk out; they tend to twirl thier package around and are more than happy to let you touch.
Anyhow, I don’t mean to talk shit; it just kind of makes me sad they have to resort to risky behavior to earn the money lady strippers can make within the confines of their club. My best night ever, 2K on New Year’s Eve, my friend and I blew a few hundred there to reward ourselves, earning the approval of the guys, who’d tell their friends, “They know how to tip!” My bipolar shit-show friend was perreando reggaeton style and droppin’ it low with them; good time had by all.
In other news, I met the perfect guy and he doesn’t like me as much as I like him. It sucks. Here are his stats: Went to a good undergrad school, the one I wish I’d gone to if I could rewind time (in DC), did four years in the Marine Corps as a Bachelor’s-holding officer, is about to start a dual grad degree at a top school on the GI bill, is naturally smart and eloquent as fuck, very cute, with tasteful tattoos and a religious zeal about making it to the gym a lot, not the hugest package but a damn good-looking one (this other guy I used to fuck had droopy balls that grossed me out, this dude’s are downright attractive.)
He is also well-raised by moderately conservative Catholics. He’s very respectful and we have similar opinions; for example, he’ll agree about gun control, instead of being all yee-haw “guns for everyone!” like other Marines I’ve known. Like me, he thinks everyday gun deaths, including suicides and low-profile homicides are ignored overall compared with mass shootings. He doesn’t think guns should be accessible to the wrong hands. Like all military dudes, he’s opinionated as fuck, but very balanced and smart about it; like me, he usede to take people to task in class, calling out professors and fellow students. He sleeps like a baby around me and seems extremely levelheaded, so no sign of PTSD fucked-upery.
So, we’ve hung out a few times, but it’s like goddamn high school as far as having a venue to fuck in. I’m living with a friend dirt cheap because I hate apartment searching and prefer blowing my money on multiple European vacations instead of high rent.
He is living with his parents and he’s at least self-conscious about it, always saying “I’m not actually a bum, I swear!” It’s a perfectly reasonable decision; he’s moving August 1 for grad school anyway and just finished paying his undergrad student loans, plus he crashes with friends when he goes out.
But we got in a slight text war about the fucking venue situation….we’ve gotten a hotel twice (the first time extending for a night) and when we attempted to make plans this week, I suggested a hotel again.
“The hotel thing kind of weirds me out.”
“Why? I kinda got the vibe you weren’t a fan.”
“Call it my Irish Catholic guilt; it just didn’t sit right with my conscience. I just don’t like getting a hotel for the sole purpose of having sex.”
“I mean, you’re not having an affair on someone, but I guess it can feel sleazy.”
(Ever the fucking TACTFUL speaker) “It just felt gratuitous I guess.”
BLOOD STARTS BOILING.
“Ok now I’m curious what you mean by that. I think I get the implication and unless I misread def don’t appreciate it, actually very insulted.”
“I mean it felt gratuitous. It felt a little like paying for sex. That’s not a reflection on u, just that I paid money for something explicitly just to have sex.”
“Right…calling me a female John of sorts is the last straw, and relects on u, someone who I misjudged as respectful and almost perfect.”
“I said it’s not a reflection on u. There’s no implication. It reflects on me being a male john as much as it would reflect on u.”
“Well for what it’s worth I dont’ just like u for sex and regret setting the wrong tone.” (ie fucking too soon/not making him wait.)
“I am being respectul. I’m being honest about how it made me feel about myself, not you. It’s the situation not the person, unless I was in a serious relationship with that person. I’m not judging you.”
“Ok I admittedly felt a bit that way, too. I think UR a good guy and never expected a serious relationship cause of your grad school but I feel somehow disappointed u wanna come fuck on a tight schedule like a dine n’ dash, yet I’m supposed to feel sleazy about hotels when ur acting sleazy otherwise.”
“It’s just damn Irish Catholic guilt. It’s not rational and it’s kinda a blurred moral ambiguity. I’m sorry for trying to be honest. I could have said nothing.”
(Pet peeve, backhanded apologies!)
“Sorry for trying to be honest is a tad euphemisitic; ru sorry ur just using me for sex and hypocritically laying your guilt on me? The silver lining of this convo, is I’m craving a hate fuck, but it also makes me wanna cut u off; doesn’t seem u give enough of a shit you’d care.”
“Not laying guilt on you, just not comfortable doing the hotel thing. I don’t feel guilty about having sex with you, but I do slightly with anybody in a hotel room. It’s an emotion not a rational conclusion. That’s the way I feel. If that upsets u and u don’t wann talk to me than that’s fine. I’m not going to lie to you to try and make you feel different, I’d rather you be able to understand and still wanna talk to me.”
(I think our conversations are enjoyable and respectful, but is still talk to me still fuck me, or still fuck me AND talk?)
“Ok ur not into hotels, that’s fine. My point is doing a quickie at my apartment doesn’t feel much better or less sleazy. I feel skeeved out when ur like “I wanna come over but have an ample exit strategy.” I know you like to talk, too, I just don’t like that dine n’ dash vibe I’m getting.”
“I don’t know why but there’s a difference there. I thought we’d hang out too. I didn’t say that, I figured I’d stay as long as I could ’til your friend got home. I just can’t stay the night this week.”
“Ok well I think we are on the same page, some frustration later…..”
Some talk of scheduling, LSAT studying, blahblah later….
“Man, that’s why guys don’t like to always share their feelings lol. Sometimes you feel a way, you can’t help feeling that way even if you don’t want to. That’s all about feeling a certain way you can’t rationally explain.”
“It’s fine, your honesty turns me on, obviously a broad’s gonna get sensitive now and then and I have a bit of a temper. I don’t like being told what I wanna hear and fishing for validation, it’s usually obvious when a guy’s trying to appease, but the truth can sting, that’s all.”
“It shouldn’t. Again it’s not a reflection of my opinion of you.”
“It’s fine, I just mean pointing out things u think but hesitate to say can feel shitty at first; I’m from “don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t acknowledge the elephant in the room” WASP stock, so it feels especially awkward when someone points out things that are uncomfortable.”
Trying to schedule time to hang blahblah later….
“Ok, unfortunately tomorrow would be the most ‘dine and dash’ scenarios ’cause I have a softball game, so if that doesn’t appeal to u that’s fine. We’ll do Friday.” (Sadly, we didn’t do Friday…the whole apartment situation etc)
“You’d feel just as awkward here as a hotel, hard to explain.” (Like I’d have to use the love seat, using my friend’s bed that she shares with her man is too boundary-crossing and I currently rock an air mattress! Probably not what he envisioned/assumed.)
I realize that was entirely too long-winded, but I did warn y’all in the title this would be a rant! At the end of the day, I’m just bummed someone so good on paper who also has values and isn’t disrespectful is out of my reach. I’d love to find an exact replica who isn’t moving away and actually expresses passion towards me, not just ho-hum friends with benefits who can hold conversations.
When someone so opinionated and open about expressing themselves doesn’t return strong feelings toward you, it’s definitely a bummer. I haven’t been pouring my heart out to him and throwing heavy relationship-expecting standards at him, like admitting I told family and friends about the ‘awesome guy I’m dating’ and writing a fucking book of a journal entry (and book of a blog entry) about him! Oh well. On to the next….well at least come August 1 when he’s gone and people switch out of “summer fling” mode.
Any-fucking-way….my “other agenda” shit is going reasonably well. I have to beware of my extrovert tendencies cause the entity where I’m volunteering and hoping to work is the kind of place that does background tests, drug tests and would undoubtedly fire me if they connected me to this blog. Sigh…. It’s not just that this blog is NSFW, but it so explicitly outlines my shortcomings and vulnerabilites.