Dasvidanya Russian Pimp I Didn’t Sign Up For

I don’t have my writer’s chi at all right now, but I feel bad I’ve been neglecting the blog this weekend. On Thursday night, I had an unpleasant incident involving the Russian driver who occasionally drove me to strip out of state (I mentioned him in the post Drugs are Bad, Mmkay?) I don’t plan on working with him again and feel far more safe and comfortable staying within the confines of my club equipped with cameras, beefed up security staff and metal detectors.

The Russian driver who recruited me through Craigslist on an ad seeking exotic dancers to dance anonymously out of state proved what I had suspected the other night; that he is some low level Russian mob pimp. He charges $50 for a round trip to a club just under two hours from NYC (really not a bad rate) but on Thursday night, the club he brought me to was so dead, I made only $40. I met a girl from Long Island who offered me a ride home, so I dipped without paying the club’s house fee or the DJ’s tip-out. I paid for the girl’s food and gave her some additional gas money. Later, I checked my phone and saw eight consecutive missed calls and 2 texts from the Russian. A little while later, he sent a text reading, “Yo, you think you’re slick, (First, Middle, Last), Born ___-__1984? Passport Number _______? See you on (my street) real soon” At the point I read that, I freaked out. Before remembering the club out of state had copied my passport, I thought he had gone into my wallet when I wasn’t paying attention. While he could have obtained my information without doing so, I distinctly remember him asking my first night “Do you want to leave your valuables in the car when you’re working since you don’t have a locker? You don’t want to leave your wallet with your passport around.” Sociopath Brighton Beach pimp fucker.

The girl who was driving me said “You got yourself a pimp,” and I said “But I’m not a hooker, I’m just dancing up there.” The threatening behavior was certainly pimp-esque, though. The girl from Long Island said his name was probably fake and that he’s probably illegal. She told me to go file a report. I was scared to go home and I even had to call my roommate and persuade her not to come home that night just in case. She freaked out thinking it was a matter of robbery and was all worried about her new laptop and cash she had in our place being taken.

I had the girl drop me off at the club where I work and the manager called me a cab to the local precinct. After filing the complaint for “aggravated harassment” I stayed with my friend in Brooklyn. I finally got the Russian’s money to him through one of his drivers. I made sure the driver met me on a very populated block instead of convincing me to venture into some unknown area.

I have to keep an eye on things to make sure my compromised passport information isn’t abused. Once I get my official case number, I will submit that number to a department who deals with that. The Russian was obviously just trying to scare me and I think he’s an idiot for exposing himself as a threatening type. However, I’m very grateful I’m now aware of that side to him and am going to cut contact fully. The money at the club he would drive me to was never very good, but I’d go there with him if my other club was overstaffed. Also, I’d go for trivial reasons like wanting to be able to wear a short dress instead of the usual long gowns or wanting to work at a club where smoking indoors wasn’t allowed.

Russians truly scare me. I am far more familiar with Italian culture and the Italian mafia. The Italians always have a deceitful smile on their face and act friendly, but the Russians are cold and manipulative from the get-go. The girl driving me home that night told me how when many Russian strippers are recruited and flown over, their passports get taken from them and they are forced into becoming sex slaves. She said she had no shame in being prejudiced against Russians, who she says are all sociopaths (of course I think that only applies to certain circles of Russians, i.e. the pimps, thugs and strippers/hookers.)

I feel that I am lucky being American working in my own country. I am less vulnerable, but the other night proved that I’m quite naive. I can’t believe what a facilitator Craigslist is for people like the Russian. I really don’t feel inclined to use that site anymore even though great things have resulted from it too. I also feel bad for the girls who fall victim when recruited to strip in foreign countries. People act like strippers and prostitutes are such social pariahs, there seems to be no public clamor to defend them against their male predators. The only ones you hear about as victims are underaged prostitutes.

In other better news, I’ve got myself a couple new regulars at my Queens club. The same guy has spent hours with me the last few nights spending $80-$120 in my champagne commissions and hundreds more on dances. He gets so drunk, I just start raping his wallet when I can tell he’s no longer coherent. My other new customer is the man I met last Tuesday, a lawyer who spent $250 just to sit and talk with me in VIP. He plans on coming to see me tomorrow, Monday, which is perfect because Mondays aren’t a night you can count on banking without a regular or luck or both.

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4 Responses to “Dasvidanya Russian Pimp I Didn’t Sign Up For”

  1. Delilah Says:

    That’s so creepy! I’m glad you’re ok.

  2. qwerty Says:

    Just to say that the picture you posted is not of the Russian mafia. It is Bulgarian mafia.

  3. Slim Shady Says:

    Ugh you’re so completely racist. Not to mention stupid…didn’t your Mother teach you about stranger danger?

  4. Slim Shady Says:

    Not to mention your blog, which is insipid drug-addled ramblings, and a ripoff of Candy Girl, right down to your wording about the Ellie’s…are all “Irish Americans” plagiarists or just you?

    You couldn’t find another strip club to dance in that wasn’t two hours away? Very resourceful of you, Miss College Graduate.

    I guess if “all Russians are sociopaths”, then all racist Irish girls are bad writers.

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