Deep inside, I’m comfortable wearing just about anything. Polo shirts, t-shirts, long sleeves, jeans, shorts, slacks, three-piece suits… I am okay with anything.

For those of you that don’t know me, I typically dress one of three ways and I will try to explain the reactions and treatment I get when wearing each.

First is my super-casual-wear. Jeans (substitute shorts for when it’s over 105 degrees outside), skate shoes (usually black), and a black t-shirt (add jacket or hoodie when it’s below 70 degrees). Those of you that haven’t had the pleasure of meeting me should take into account that I am 6′5″, around 285 pounds, and heavily tattooed (Nothing outside of my arms and nothing below the wrist). I’m usually very clean cut, I typically sport a soul patch only unless I just don’t feel like shaving, in which case it only takes about 3 days to grow a pretty substantial beard.

People tend to avoid eye contact with me. Hell, people tend to avoid making it obvious that they’re looking at me all together. I don’t come off as an aggressive or unpleasant person. I hold open doors for people. I say both please and thank you and I make solid eye contact with people I’m interacting with. I am also rather well spoken and honestly pretty quiet and reserved. Yet, I am still avoided at great costs.

People who are “brave” enough to strike up conversation with me generally talk about things I have zero interest in. Sports, current events, the tattoo they got 20 years ago, or for whatever reason their children (I still can’t figure this one out – nothing about me screams “Hey I want to talk about the failure that crawled from within you). However, I am still polite and I make idle chit-chat until I have the ability to politely excuse myself from interaction and go about my business.

I also get people in social (drinking) situations that are in one of two camps – those that seek me out for altercation, or those that want to “side with me” because they are incapable of keeping themselves out of altercations. The former isn’t something I’m particularly fond of, the latter is only slightly more amusing than it is a nuisance. I am fully capable of walking away from a fight if I have the opportunity, I don’t always – but I certainly do not go out looking for them. Some people do though, and I’m sure you’ve all heard “Find the biggest, baddest looking motherfucker in the room and knock them flat on their ass to assert dominance.”

Secondly, is “Business casual.” This typically involves slacks or khakis, and some sort of collared shirt (either button down or golf shirt).

I actually get talked to quite a bit with this. Even with tattoos in plain view people feel comfortable striking up a conversation with me about anything. They make eye contact with me, say hello, even smile at me. It’s nice. I get half pleasantries and half people wondering what the hell I do for a living that I can get away with how I look. People are usually very friendly and don’t ask a lot of questions. Any conversations are usually short and to the point, and since I look like I have important things to do, they usually don’t keep me from my activities (like building forts and karate).

Lastly, there’s full on suit mode. Similar to casual dress in many ways, people typically don’t make eye contact with me – and if they do it’s not for very long. I don’t dress like this much – a couple days a week and even then I’m not in public for much of that, I’m typically at work – so I haven’t had much time to really take an accurate reading of people.

I can say this though – I get mistaken for some sort of high level law enforcement agent, a lot. And this isn’t just speculation, I’ve been told by people they thought I was anything from a Detective, to Vice, to FBI … Yes – me.

People generally seem to respect me more. Or fear me more. I can’t quite put a finger on which. But it seems that people are willing to go out of their way to make things easier on me, even if that means holding a door for me, or moving out of my way when I’m walking. It’s rather amusing.

I’ll try to report back more, I plan on “suiting up” more often, just because I can.

I was right.

Jokingly, I told them that if they had any questions they shouldn’t hesitate to ask me as I would be happy to *discretely* assist them without making it known they were total nubs (noobs, noobies, FNG’s).  I suggested that if I wasn’t within earshot, they should raise their hand to get my attention.

Much to my surprise and amusement, one of them did so about ten minutes later.

I started walking over and met him about halfway between where I was and where he had just been (at the tip rail) and I asked him what I could do to help.

“Um… I have a question about tipping.”

Shoot!

“I don’t want to piss anyone off, how much should I tip?”

Fucking smart kid. I later deduced that he was the ambassador to the group and was asking the question that was on all their minds, so I very simply explained to him the following:

Safe bet is 2-3 dollars per girl, no matter what you think of them. If you find a girl particularly attractive or fetching, 5-6 dollars would suffice to let her know you’re interested. If you’re feeling up to it, if she comes over to you while on stage, mention that you’d be interested in getting a dance from her when she’s off stage. Saves the guess work in having her come over and ask, she already knows you’re ready to rock.

He thanked me, and a few minutes when I checked back on them there was no less than $10 on stage in front of them (5 guys, at least $2 per), I was impressed with them and the girls seemed happy they had started tipping seemingly out of nowhere.

It just goes to show you that no matter what, there are no stupid questions in a strip club. Staff generally has zero problem assisting with your needs, as long as they are within reason and the staff member isn’t a total cunt or you aren’t being a fuckwad.

And even though it was funny to me (and everyone I told) at the time, those kids are going to grow to be pretty cool strip club patrons, being respectful, tipping and getting dances. They also left when they were out of money. Hell, I’d probably sit with them for a while if I saw them out.

It was basically a really cool looking, but really worthless phone. Next I got a MyTouch 3G from T-mobile and was finally able to download apps so I went nuts, downloading everything from backgrounds to games to ring tones.

One said ring tone was a text message alert from the movie “Step Brothers” with Will Ferrel and that other guy with the pubes on his head. Every time I’d get a text, a little jingle would play and Will Ferrel would say “My penis is tingling right now.”

Funny, especially working in a strip club.

Fast forward a month or two and I’m at work, typical week night and this girl is entirely pissing me off. Breaking all sorts of rules, getting on my nerves, pissing the other girls off and causing me grief.

So I ask her to come into the office so I can talk to her. I left the door open, put my phone on the desk next to me and told her what was going to happen. *Phone goes off* I ignored it.

Listen, I’m going to terminate our relationship right now, you’re much more trouble than I’m prepared to deal with on behalf of the club. *Phone goes off* Give me a call *phone goes off* in a couple of weeks and we can reassess at that *Phone goes off* time.

In typical annoying stripper fashion, she had done nothing wrong, I was an asshole for firing her, blah blah blah. And then she says “You’re just a fucking pervert anyway, just listen to your phone!”
Yeah… that made me really uncomfortable too as it was going off the whole time we’re in an office smaller than a jail cell and you’re only wearing a g-string and stilettos.

That was pretty much the end of the custom ring tones and alerts for me.

I love this state. Love it. I love most of the people. I love the way it was laid out. I love the traffic, and the landscaping, and the winters.

I hate the summers here. I think everyone does.

Late August (almost September) and it’s still over 110* outside, in the early evening.

For those of you who aren’t too familiar with how the Phoenix area is set up – we are what is referred to as an “Concrete Heat Table,” in that the whole city is one big slab of concrete surrounded by desert. What does concrete do when it gets hot? It stays hot. So even at 3-4AM it’s still in the 100’s outside.

We’re lucky this place hasn’t melted down, yet.

How do we battle the heat? Air conditioning, lots of water, and unending complaining.

The people that have been through a summer already know what to expect, but it seems that the longer we live here, the quicker we forget how hot it actually gets. You go your first few years expecting the heat, then you are so relieved when winter time hits that you completely forgot how miserable the last four months of your life were, until summer hits you smack in the face again and you sweat non-stop for a third of the year.

I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else though. I prefer the weather in LA, but I can’t stand the traffic. I prefer the scenery in Dallas but I hate the people. And I prefer the solitude of the moon, but I like breathing.

I typically ask random questions, sometimes said questions are pointed, but rarely are they relevant to anything and I’m just trying to get a dialogue going.

The same can not be said about my updates here on this blog.

Aside from the fact that I find it a pain in the ass to come to the back end of  this site (the part that allows me to type all this nonsense in order for people to not read it because it’s too fucking long), I am always faced with what to talk about.

I’m naturally long winded. I won’t apologize for that. Once you get me going it’s very hard for me to wrap up my thoughts and be done with it. I go off on tangents that will seemingly never end. Most of my stories end abruptly, without conclusion, solely based on the realization that I’ve forgotten the point, I have forgotten the ideal, and there really never was a punch line to begin with – I just like hearing myself talk.

I’ve followed off-and-on another (busier and more successful) content shooter who resides in LA and I’ve communicated with once or twice before (once via email I think and the other time on the phone) and recently seeing him post on a forum brought me back to his blog once again where I’ve gone through about 30 updates by him for the last couple of months. Fascinating. I won’t post who it is (however if he reads this and knows I’m talking about him and would like me to I’m more than willing to link to his blog so people read it, as they should) due to the fact that most people will likely think there’s an objective, or that I’m just trying to suck up to him (not the case, I respect the guy but I don’t kiss-ass).

I’ve decided that while I’m not always going to have a 1200 word post (I actually keep an eye on how many words I’ve written and use that as a deciding point on when I should just log out and be done with it), I should really update this more often because in the last year or so that it’s been up (2 years? … I don’t know anymore) it’s cost me about $500 and it’s a complete waste if I’m not using it.

However, there’s still the matter of organizing the links to My Journey As A Stripper Sitter (that I am still in the process of finding the motivation to continue) which due to my computer crashing almost a year ago and never being fixed – has become quite a daunting task on my little netbook. I am ordering a computer on Monday, and once I get it set up, there will be two more websites I will be building and launching (one regarding strip clubs and the other a more directed vision into what gets me off) and I will have the mess of links within this site cleaned up and ready to rock for those of you that are trying to read this mess but can’t.

So in the meantime, feel free to continue poking around, and I will definitely attempt to update this more often so you people who come see this actually come back and have something new to see.

If you have any suggestions on what I should write about – or want to hear my opinion or honestly answer any questions you have, feel free to contact me through the forms above (I believe it’s called “Contact”) and I will post both the your question (anonymously) and my answer (candidly) on the site for you and everyone else to read.

For the record, I am a firm believer that if you’re “modeling” nude and the photos are being released for publication in any form, you should be paid. How much? Well that’s up to you, and unfortunately mostly up to the photographer based on what he thinks the set is worth.

For example. I’m doing an art-nude shoot, where I get 20 girls to come in at different times and I’m taking photographs of their undercarriage to create a collage and I need maybe 5 pics max, the photo will be from about your belt line to 2″ below your cash and prizes. Total time spent on your end prepping (taking your pants off, shaving pre-shoot) and posing, about 2 minutes, more if you need to shave on set. Snap off 5 photos, whole thing is done in less than 10 minutes and you’re on your way back doing whatever it is women do when they’re not being productive.

Let’s imagine for a moment that my client has a price-point set for me at $600 and that’s all he’s going to pay me. Well already I’m not going to make much fucking money off of this and I know it, but I’m struggling for work, I’m feeding my cat leftover ramen noodles, and he’s getting a little upset about me only having beef flavor. So I accept the job and start off looking for models. . .

Scenario A)

Browsing around an internet, I see your “Modeling Profile.” You say you do nudes so I click on your “Profile” and am browsing around to see if you have the look I need for my project, and you’re a perfect fit. I go back to your main page to find out more about you, and I see you have your rates listed.

I’ve seen anything from $100 to $600 an hour for nude photographs. What.The.Fuck. Here’s the reason I am even considering paying you – you show up on time. You do what you’re expected to do (and EVERY aspect of the shoot is discussed in detail before you even agree to it, I don’t do the bait-and-switch shit), You’re professional about it (as professional as one can be with their twat hanging out) and you aren’t a bunch of drama afterwards.

Remember I have a budget of $600 at the most WITHOUT making money on it. If I shoot 20 girls at 100-600 each, that’s $2000 to $12,000 in models at these ridiculous rates paying at a full hour.

Scenario B)

I’m out at my local coffee shop, and you look like an approachable cute lady, so I go up to you, hand you my card and explain to you the project. Takes ten minutes of your time, doesn’t involve your face at all, nobody will know it’s you, best of all it’s going to get you some money.

“Sure,” you start. “I would be totally willing to do that.”

“Okay,” I explain. “I’m on a fairly limited budget for this so if we could work out some compensation I’d love to book you.”

“I could do it for like $500.”

I hear this SO often when doing face to face recruiting, and it’s all I can do not to burst out laughing.

The reason girls in both mainstream and in adult get paid so much money is because they are able to go the extra mile and put out content that is consistent EVERY SINGLE TIME. Unless your vagina is a high paid glamour model, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t take my generous offer of whatever it might be and understand the situation fully. In this situation I’m right back where I was with the “Modeling Websites” ending up having to pay way more than I should have to, to get a few simple shots off in a short amount of time with literally ZERO modeling on your part.

Girls, what I’m getting at is be realistic. If you’re going to be doing some simple modeling in clothing or bikinis, getting compensated for your gas and travel, hair and make-up and whatever else you need is good enough. If you’re doing full out nude shoots, get paid a little more. Still be fucking reasonable though. We aren’t out here making millions of dollars off one set of you with your butthole showing, so don’t expect to get compensated as such.

If you’re doing a 20 guy gang-bang or fucking horses (ew) then yeah, you can probably be a little more outrageous with your rates.

The photographers I know don’t try to low-ball you because they know you don’t know any better, we have prices in mind that we are comfortable paying you for us to still make a profit on it.

The whole “first time” model thing is a double edged sword. On one hand, we have content of you NOBODY else has. On the other side, you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing and it’s going to show.

So as always, be careful out there, and get paid what you can get paid, but don’t turn down the little jobs because the money isn’t good enough for you or doesn’t meet your America’s Next Top Model standards on what you think you’re worth. Just know that girls are a dime a dozen, and we asked you because we think you’re worth trying out, not because we think you’re the next big supermodel.

First of all – and this should be obvious – is pulling into the parking lot.

Look for valet parking, whether or not you use it is your choice – but look for it so you know to either drive towards it or avoid it and park yourself. Also be on the lookout for any signs indicating tow-away zones, parking limits or any additional costs associated with parking in certain areas.

When you’ve parked and your car is off – GET OUT OF YOUR CAR. It makes the people that sit and watch the the parking area nervous when you sit in your car for 15 minutes. They don’t know if you’re a creeper who is sitting in there masturbating at the sheer proximity to nudity, or loading a weapon you plan on using. Simply put, it looks shady.

If you look younger than 30, be prepared to have your ID out and ready to show. Different clubs have different approaches to verifying your age, so take the damn thing out. Leaving it in your wallet is fine – if you really want to hand your entire wallet and it’s contents over to someone you don’t know.

If you don’t see any sort of door host when you walk in the club, don’t just assume it’s free to come in and sit down – chances are it’s not. Standing around looking like you don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on is TOTALLY ACCEPTABLE, because it gets someones attention that will come over and help you out. Staff usually doesn’t mind telling you what to do as long as you don’t just assume you already know.

Don’t be a pain in the ass, just order a drink. If you don’t drink alcohol, we don’t care – just get a soda or a water. Most importantly – TIP your server. Management pays them as little as possible, so the only way they make money is from your tips, and don’t assume that because it’s a strip club they make money so they won’t mind if you don’t tip – everyone else has that idea too. Should you pay their way through college each time they serve you? Certainly not, but standard practice is $1 per drink delivered. I usually tip $3-4 per drink depending on complexity of the order, but I’ve also been doing this for a while and hate cheap fucks (like you).

If you’re taken somewhere and seated by someone, TIP THEM too. Here it really depends what you want to tip them, and the area you WANT to be versus where they actually put you. If you request stage side seating and they have to move ANYONE to seat you and your party, make sure you take really good care of the person seating you and make sure you earn your spot by tipping the dancers.

Sitting at the bar? That’s cool too – as long as they serve alcohol. Juice bars are just there to have a place for servers to go to get your water, soda, whatever. They serve zero other purpose. If you’re sitting at the bar, know that dancers may or may not approach you – typically the people that sit at the bar just want to be left alone and have zero intention of getting dances or tipping, so you put yourself in that position. Tip the bartender too, especially if you’re super talkative or are in need of any information about the club or its dancers. Nothing worse than someone who mindlessly chats your ear off for 30 minutes and leaves you with a dollar or two.

If you’re sitting by the stage, you MUST tip. While it’s not REQUIRED at any club that I’ve been to – what the fuck are you doing taking up prime real estate if you’re just going to sit there with your arms crossed? The view is just as good a row or two back, and you don’t block people who actually want to give the girls money. Don’t be that guy, because EVERYONE that works there will talk about how cheap you are.

On that note, don’t just think you can sit in the back and blend in either. Yes, we see you there too. You’re “That guy” that hasn’t budged an inch in the last half hour, hasn’t given anyone a dollar and has refused every dancer for whatever reason you come up with, and I personally have heard them all from the girls. These include “I am just trying to relax before getting dances” “I want to see the girls on stage first” “None of the girls are my type” and the best one ever – “I’m waiting for the right song.” Hey idiot, by the time that song comes on, it’s too late.

Now, when you’re sitting their either by yourself or with a group of your equally retarded friends (yes this just took a turn for the derogatory), don’t for a second think it’s okay to do any of the following:

1. Yelling randomly, cat calling, whistling, dancing, or chair dancing (the act of dancing with your hands in the air while seated)

2. Talking shit to the dancers at any time, for any reason, about anything. Trust me – dancers get pissed off easily and the guy they go to is sick of hearing them bitch and is willing to just throw you out so they’ll shut the fuck up already.

3. Yelling to the waitress or DJ for anything without money in your hand.

4. Slapping anyone on the ass, grabbing anyones tits, trying to stick your fingers in anything.

5. Bitching about the music to the DJ – trust me, as a guy who’s been DJing and managing clubs for 4 years, I don’t want to play some of this shit either, but the girls pay me so I do. If the music is globally not what you want to hear, go somewhere else.

Now, let’s get into when you decide to sack up and drop some coin on dances. This is where every club is different and EVERY dancer has her own rules.

For your first (let’s call it) five dances, why not just sit there with your hands to your side and enjoy the (hopefully) hot chick rubbing her body on you? Why does seemingly everyone feel the need to instantly start molesting dancers the second the dance starts? Most of the time, you’ll get a better dance when the girl isn’t redirecting your gropes the entire time. And to further that thought, the girls that are cool with you molesting them will either tell you, or move your hands for you. Even if a girl says “hey why don’t you lick my pussy” WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT TO? If you’re that hard up to eat some snatch, go get a hooker. The girls that will let you tongue-fuck their clam have had at least one other guy do that to them that day, and you’re just begging for mouth-sores doing that. Don’t be a moron. If a girl offers you any extras, I personally don’t give a fuck if you take them up on it or not (as long as it’s not in my club) but just use your brain, think about how long she’s been on shift and how often she’s been giving guys dances since her last shower. Gross when you think about it that way, right? Just try not to put your mouth on anything, you’ll be better off that way.

Pulling out your dick, for any reason (it hurts, needs air, want to adjust it) is retarded. If the girls wants it out or the club allows it (they shouldn’t) let her do it for you. I am hearing about this more and more and it’s just stupid. You’re in a dark room with a half (or fully) naked girl on your lap, but you’re still in public. Have some manners, you sick fuck. If you know your hard-on isn’t going anywhere any time soon and you need to walk anywhere, most dancers will let you adjust yourself so it’s not so obvious (if the location permits such sneakiness), but be quick about it and don’t sit there playing with it.

Furthermore, on the dance subject – keep track of your money. I tell girls this and the same goes for customers – don’t stack your dances. I lose track too sometimes when I’m really into it or really drunk, 3 turns into 10 and you lost count about 4 songs ago, was it 9 or 11 that I’ve done? How much money do I owe her? Chances are nobody else is paying attention to the number of songs you’ve had a hard-on for, so your best bet is to pay for your dances every 2 or 3 songs. If you run out of money and need to hit the ATM, just know that they don’t always work the way you want them to – and you might not be able to get the cash out that you owe. (Oh by the way, stop bitching about the $5-10 ATM fees, they’re more expensive to have in strip clubs so the fee is much higher to offset what we pay to have them in there for you to use). In the olden days, the doorman would just take you out back and beat your ass until he felt he’d inflicted the monetary value of damage to your person that was needed, now we have the option to call the police and have you arrested for theft of services. Try explaining that one to a judge, let me know how it goes.

I’ll add more to this when I feel like it, but for now I think this is a pretty good start and should help clear up some issues I’ve been seeing lately.

Okay so it’s been quite a while since I’ve updated this so here goes…

I started at the new club bright eyed and bushy tailed, so to speak.

What I didn’t realize was that the people I was working with were literally nothing like me. They were crass, they were ghetto, and they were opinionated. More so, they were entirely stubborn and set in their ways. On top of all that, they were shady and frankly only in it for themselves.

If I know anything about strip clubs now is that when dancers make money, they are supposed to tip out, and tip out well. I would have girls make a ton of money and then straight walk out the door without even paying house, much less tipping out.

Main thing in a strip club is not pissing off your managers, so you’re allowed to come back. But when you’re not tipping out and there’s nothing he’s really able to do about it, why not? If you don’t and you don’t get in trouble for it, there really isn’t a point in paying money you don’t have to. This was exactly what I was dealing with. Girls would come in, make several hundred dollars and then walk out like they didn’t owe anyone anything. I didn’t know who these girls were, half the time I didn’t even know if they worked there – and therefore I had no course of action to get them to actually pay out what they owed. Furthermore I had no help from the other management who actually knew what was going on, which made it totally frustrating for me to actually run shifts.

On top of the dancers being idiots, I had to deal with an incompetent staff. The doormen were thugs, the waitresses were lazy, I only had one decent bartender, and the DJ was selling drugs out the back door. I don’t know if anyone has been in the position where your entire staff is worthless and you can’t do anything about it, but it fucking sucks and it makes your life hell.

So a month or two passed, and I still didn’t have a handle on it. I was never really told what to do, I wasn’t shown how to do the paperwork properly, and nobody took me seriously. I was just there to fill a spot so people could have days off.

The real kicker came when I walked into the office and sat down, and saw a schedule that didn’t have my name on it. I called the guy who really oversaw the club and he told me not to worry about it, and then when the GM came in I asked him what the deal was. He told me I had two options, either accept my dismissal as a manager, or take my old job back at the previous club. I wasn’t given any explanation at the time, it was just “like it or fuck off.”

Needless to say, my stupid ass took back my old job, and I was fucking miserable. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to work with those girls. I wanted to work at a liquor club and I wanted to be around people that were drinking.

I talked to the district manager over the next couple of weeks and he told me that if I stuck around I would be back at the club I was happier at, so I did. I stuck around and dealt with what I needed to deal with at the old club in order to get the job back that I actually wanted. I really wasn’t making much money, not that it was any sort of change, and I wasn’t at all happy where I was. But, being the loyal employee that I was, I stuck it out because someone at the top told me that it’d be worth it.

The girls I was working with noticed the difference. The once happy-go-lucky me was no more, in his place was a total asshole that wasn’t putting up with their shit, at all. I was so irritated with my last job and the girls I was working with that I took it out on the people that although hadn’t tipped me very well – really weren’t much of a problem, or so I thought at the time.

To this point, I still really didn’t know how a strip club was supposed to run. I was getting misinformation by what I’d later come to realize was a collective group of the worst strip club managers and general managers I’d meet even to this day. I was just doing what I thought I should do, and part of what I was told to do. Common sense told me most of this stuff was wrong. Girls getting so drunk they couldn’t walk, so high they didn’t know what was going on, not going on stage on time or sometimes at all, the list goes on.

Half the time the girls didn’t make money even though there were customers in the building that WANTED to spend money on them. Their laziness was screwing their money and in the end screwing mine too. I still wasn’t making enough money to make it even worth showing up for work, a far cry from what I was making at the first club. Even in a week at the current club I was only making a fraction of what I’d make in a day at the first place. I couldn’t believe it. I thought regular clubs were supposed to be better?

Little did I know that this group of clubs was far from “regular.” It was an unorganized, chaotic clusterfuck that the owners didn’t even care about.

And then things got worse.

I’ve made a verbal agreement with my surrounding neighbors not to start my 550hp car after 10 PM. It’s too loud, it’s woken people up and I’m doing my best to be a good neighbor. After all, I’m not THAT big of a shit head.

So occasionally if it’s late and I’m bored, I’ll walk to the Circle K on the corner of the major intersection near my place. This started out as a usual excursion, keys in my pocket, some money and some comfortable shoes going along for the walk.

Upon arriving at my destination, there was a guy outside with a fishing pole so I decided to stop and talk to him for a minute. I have fond memories from when I was younger, and being in the middle of the desert bordering more desert – I was curious as to where the hell he planned on using that thing. After about fifteen minutes of fish stories, a hybrid pulled up with two people inside.

All I could see was the passenger, and wouldn’t have given them a second look had they not pulled into the middle of the parking lot, well away from the pumps or an actual parking spot. The passenger gets out, an overweight girl covered in tattoos, and comes out yelling “Hey, brother!” I immediately looked at the guy I was talking to, realized she wasn’t talking to him (around 50 and black), and turned my attention back to her.

She comes walking up to me telling me that I am her brother, and that the guy she was with was really creeping her out and she needed to get out of there. I looked at her incredulously for a moment, looked towards the car and saw the driver was an older guy, maybe in his forties, and was definitely not someone she just casually knew.

She looked back at him as I made my way into the store and said “My brother says I need to stay with him.” Not about to get shot by some weirdo for cock-blocking, I just walked into the store ignoring her.

She comes in after me and is asking me if I have a phone to use. I do – but you’re not using it.

The store clerk says that she can use his phone to call a cab, and she goes on talking about how the guy gave her $100 just to hang out with him. Now things are starting to make more sense, and they’re getting pretty clear.

I purchase my goods, and she walks back outside with us.

She begins to clarify that she’s not a hooker or an escort – just a normal girl who happened to get in a car with a guy who offered her money for her company.

Um… THAT MAKES YOU A HOOKER.

She didn’t like that too much, and decided to inform me that she has three kids (which wasn’t a shocker), a husband (she showed me her kick ass fake diamond that was the size of my left nut … not big) and well, she just wasn’t a hooker. Okay, sweetheart.

I tried to tell her that of all people she could have ran into that night – I was the ONE person in the general area that knows more about the distinctions between hookers and escorts and whatever… but she wasn’t hearing it. I decided not to give her TOO much information, which proved to be the right idea when she asked me to borrow my phone.

Quick Jon Oso tip – only admit to carrying plastic (credit/debit cards), and never admit you have a phone on you unless they see it or hear it.

Sorry sweetheart, I don’t have my phone on me – I left it at home.

Then she asks me where that is, and I point in about 4 directions and tell her it’s “Over there.”

No bullshit – chick asks me if I wanted to hang out. If I was 5-6 years younger and she was 5-6 inches smaller around (or 15 inches) I probably would have obliged, but I wasn’t in any mood to have some trashy hooker at my place for her to do as she like on my couch that’s already seen enough abuse as it is.

I politely told her to get fucked … more along the lines of “Thank you, no.” But she got the message either way.

I walked outside again to chat with the cashier for a minute and she was on the store phone calling a cab, I waited around to see if the guy that had dropped her off would come back – and sure enough he did drive by at least once while we were all still standing outside.

Finally after about 5 minutes her cab showed up -

Side note – Why can’t cabs come that quick when I’m trying to kick someone out of my condo?! What the fuck?

- and she went on her way probably off to the next call, and that ended the excitement of my night. I walked home and enjoyed whatever the hell it was that I bought in the first place before hilarity ensued.

What was the whole point of this mess? Frankly if you don’t know, I don’t know either and I’m not about to try to make sense of it so it’s best you don’t either.

All I have to say is that you don’t have to lie to kick it.

No, I didn’t kill my ex. In typical stripper fashion, she cheated on me – with a customer – and I kicked her out of my house and out of my life. Of course with everything I do, this took a few months and was a long, painful process. But I digress.

In summery, don’t date strippers. Fuck the shit out of them while they’ll let you – watch your money (and your expensive shit around them), and I would suggest using a condom because frankly you never know. STD’s are not fun to have, unexpected kids with retarded bitches are worse.

2. Dancers – You’re better off dating a dancer than a stripper, and hopefully now you can tell the difference between them now. I don’t have much to say on this subject as I’ve never really dated a dancer that only does it as a part-time thing. A lot of them start out with the intention of being part-time, then figure they can make more money going full time and end up fucking themselves into the stripper lifestyle. I wouldn’t suggest NOT dating them or trying to have a meaningful relationship with one, but be careful regardless of what you do. There’s still a 50/50 chance she’s banging other guys behind your back, and will walk off with your laptop, digital camera and your flatscreen if you aren’t paying attention.

3. Entertainers – Now this I do have a bit to speak upon. I have dated a couple entertainers in my time, one of them was awesome and I’m still friends with her today, and the others… not so much. An entertainer is either totally insane at home and sane at work, or just a little bit crazy at home and sane at work.

Doesn’t mean they are bad people, but face it – all women are a little bit crazy.

Most of the girls I have dated are total fucking screwballs outside of work, drugs – alcohol, random sexual partners (until they’re in a relationship), multiple kids from different people, just a hot fucking mess. But when they strap on their stilettos they are in money mode. No bullshit, no drama, no games. A total blast to work with, and not too bad to date. They usually aren’t bad on the eyes either.

A lot of people can’t stand the fact that they date girls who make money off of selling sexuality, so if you can’t tolerate your girlfriend rubbing her ass on guys crotches (through the pants) this isn’t for you. Just walk away now unless you have a ton of money, even then these girls look out for themselves first and don’t want to be reliant on someone else to pay their bills.

4. Escorts – What can I really say about this one? I dated a girl a few years ago that was an “Escort.” Reality of the situation was; she worked at a One-On-One club, gave private dances to guys that were naked and usually jerking themselves off, and limited herself so that she was okay with the guys doing what they were doing as long as they didn’t touch her. This was the ONLY reason I had a serious relationship with her. I had the benefit of working with her at this club, and she actually only worked on my shifts (just happened like that) so I was able to know everything that was happening behind closed doors.

The first time her and I hooked up, she dragged this new girl into the office, asked if they could “practice” a two girl session, and I was in no position to say no. A threesome ensued and the rest was history. It was one of the craziest moments I’ve ever had at work (not THE craziest, but certainly top ten) and her and I started talking more afterward and hung out, which lead to a short-term dating relationship. Not a horrible experience but she is really the exception to the rule that is that escorts really do fuck. I can’t remember how or why it ended, but we were still cool after all was said and done, and remained friends until things just kind of trailed off into oblivion. I stopped working at the club and lost touch with her.

The other girl was a little different. She was in her 40s (I was 21 at the time) and loved young meat. Me, being the youngest person she had regular access to, was a prime candidate for her to sink her cougar teeth into, and we started hanging out and hooking up outside of work. She was a little more liberal with her clients, and depending on the money had a “no holes barred” approach to each situation. This didn’t really bother me either, but it was a little less comfortable knowing the girl I was seeing was banging other people. Her and I still keep in touch to this day, although the extracurricular activities have been dormant for a couple of years. Not a big deal, I’m probably too old for her now anyway.

The thing is with these girls, a lot of the time you don’t know what to believe. Most of them have money for sex, and it doesn’t matter if you give it to them directly or through buying them things – you’re going to get what you’re going to get and you have no idea how to tell if they’re being real with you or not. One thing is for sure, if you treat it more like a booty call than dating (i.e. stop spending money around them) and they stick around, chances are you’re actually having a relationship with this person as opposed to just being an ATM with a dick.

Take these relationships for what they’re worth. Take your cape off, don’t try to save-a-hoe and just enjoy them while they last. If they don’t have a pimp it means they’re smarter than they let on, they know what guys want and they know that by giving it to them, they can get what they want too.

5. Porn Stars – these girls are people too. Just like any other part of the industry there are girls that are super, super crazy, and then there are normal girls who are just using it as a means to an end, or maybe they really enjoy what they do. A lot of us can sit there and think “Accounting must be boring as fuck” but there really are people who go out and do it and enjoy it, much like being in Porn. They don’t look at it as degrading or demeaning, they just like money and sex and know how to capitalize on their good looks.

I can’t give too much detail about this as I’ve never really dated a “Porn Star,” But I can tell you that like any other woman, just pay attention to what’s going on. If you think you’re getting played, you probably are. If the girl is willing to be normal around you and isn’t putting on a show – you’re probably having a genuine relationship.

6. Adult Models – Depending on what they are doing, you could be in for a normal relationship or a really wild ride. These girls range from normal chicks who look good and love to model, to girls with super low self esteem that need constant reassurance from a photographer, and are willing to get naked just to get compliments. From implied nude to spread nude, they really run the range of mild to wild but don’t quite cross over into what (some) people would consider porn.

You can pretty much tell right when you get them talking about their photoshoots what they’re about. If they show you what they do and they can actually model, good for them. If they have worked with a few photographers and just can’t seem to get it right, and they really don’t look like they know what they’re doing – you’re kind of fucked and might as well walk away.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with dating this type of girls. They’re usually pretty fun, and who doesn’t want to date a model? But, on the flip side, the ones with low self esteem will need constant compliments to even function, much like you need to put gas in your car, truck, or scooter. It all depends on how much you can put up with.

One of the models I dated was a complete whore. If I wasn’t getting 50 text messages in a row, I was getting phone call after phone call. Seemed like every time she thought of something new to tell me – my phone was ringing. Then there was the “let’s look at my pictures again.” I sent them to you, my dear, you can look at them any time you want. I go through a photoset, edit it, go through it again and delete pictures I didn’t notice that I didn’t care for the first time, and that’s about it. I don’t want to look at the same pictures over and over again. Then it started where she started fucking other people. At first not a big deal as we weren’t exclusive, but you’d figure that if you were getting literally thousands of text messages a month that person wouldn’t even have time to be with other people. I told her pretty frankly that if we were having unprotected sex with each other (both were clean when things started out) I wasn’t interested in taking the risk of getting something, but I was fine if she wanted to sleep around. I just wasn’t going to stick around. Things obviously didn’t end too well, but I’ve now put that past me and think I’m better off not dealing with the bullshit. That’s the FAR FAR end of the crazy spectrum, you hopefully won’t have the same experience.

Take it, soak it in… and if you have any questions use the contact form above and I’ll get back to you eventually.