My Journey As A StripperSitter (part 10)
continued from…
The intro to my training at a nude club was “I’m about to leave, come out and have a cigarette with me.” Okay? I guess.
I walked out with him and he gave me the run-down on the shifts, I was pretty much getting the shifts nobody wanted to work which was typical of the new guy. Totally fine with me. He let me in on the fact that there were only a few girls per shift, the customers were not so frequent but the earning potential was decent. He, like all other strip club managers I’ve worked with spouted off numbers that didn’t mean anything to me about how much he made a year ago at the same club and how we’d be back rocking it in a couple of weeks. All well and good.
He told me he was having a couple of girls come in, and an hour or so later they did. So far so good, but I noticed I still hadn’t seen a customer. He distracted me by showing me how to use the DJ equipment, which was totally foreign to me at the time. Flip a switch and you can talk on the mic, flip it back and no one can hear you. Simple enough. Drag and drop songs, don’t be worried if the computer freezes it’s supposed to do that. Still got it. Paperwork? Not a problem, numbers go where they go, add, subtract, done.
The girls didn’t seem too bad either, they gave me typical shit, stealing the mic when I wasn’t looking, running around like demons, seeing how far they could push it with the GM still there and seeing what the new guy would let slide.
All was well and I was totally comfortable with it until a customer came in and the GM asked me if I wanted to test out actually talking on the mic.
You want me to do what?
I froze, I had only sang in front of people before, I HATED my spoken voice, didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to say and what the hell I was supposed to play.
I just watched him for a while. More like an hour or so. From a DJ’s standpoint (in retrospect) it’s virtually impossible to hear what a DJ is saying if you’re standing in the booth with him unless he is SUPER loud. The set up here sounded like you were yelling through a coffee can, the music was way louder than it EVER needed to be and there are some DJ’s you just can’t understand no matter what.
My first attempt went like this.
Me: mumble mumble mumble round 1 mumble
Everyone else looked on with confused blank stares. Who was supposed to be on stage? What was going on? What the hell song was this?
If you ever get to meet a stripper on a business-level, you will realize that most of them are very protective of “their music.” Most of the time girls will just start walking towards the stage if they hear a song they usually dance to. I grew to not give a shit after some time, I played what I wanted to hear or what I thought the crowd wanted to hear, unless of course I was sleeping with the girl or she tipped me out a LOT. Some of these girls will go so far as confronting other girls about dancing to “their music” and yelling at the DJ. Lesson learned the hard way. Others will bitch at you for playing music they’ve never heard before and (in some cases) really, really sucks.
Luckily, my trainer grabbed the microphone and straightened everything out for my first attempt. Subsequent attempts were just about as bad. I would either talk way too loud, way too slow, or way too soft. This part wasn’t going well, but it was my first time and I HAD to learn how to do it so I kept at it.
I stayed for a few hours, called it a night and went home to reflect on what I had learned.
We met back at the club the next night for another round of training (mostly on the talk-box) and I was making absolutely no improvement whatsoever. I had everything else down though, and down well.
I was supposed to do pretty much everything. I was serving the (non-alcoholic) drinks, checking entering patrons for identification, working the cash register, playing DJ, and managing all at the same time. I was finally at the point where I was interacting with customers, but I was quickly learning that most of the time, and especially during the day, customers really didn’t want to talk to you. If you didn’t have anything to offer, you got brushed off no matter how polite you were being.
Luckily, a few of the girls were major hustlers. For my first couple of weeks they pretty much ran the show, I was just there to collect money and make sure nobody was doing anything stupid or illegal. It was basically the same thing I was doing at the last club.
Over the first month though I learned how to interact with my patrons, formed solid working relationships with the girls and was able to hire new girls to train how to be strippers as well.
One night there was particularly slow, I had a few girls there but there weren’t any customers. It was fairly typical for everyone to be sitting outside, no music in the club and nothing really going on while we sat on the stools and watched traffic go by. If a customer pulled into the parking lot, we all went inside and started up the music and got ready, but this night there was literally no one coming in.
We got on the discussion of how one of the girls hadn’t had sex in some time. I don’t remember the exact duration – all I can remember is her looking at me and the other girls and saying “I just need to be fucked.” In my personal life or in the other club I would have taken this opportunity to offer my services, but being new I didn’t want to test the waters in a club with an owner I actually had never met. I didn’t think the GM would have a problem with it but girls talk, and the last thing I need to do is get fired from what could potentially be good money according to what everyone kept telling me.
Apparently though, I wasn’t afforded the opportunity to say no it seemed.
I excused myself in less than polite terms, “I have to piss” I believe were my exact words, and moments after I unzipped and pulled out the horny little latina dancer made her way into the bathroom behind me and asked me if I was going to fuck her. I quickly put myself away and told her to get out of the Men’s Bathroom and after putting on my “I’m Not Joking” face she finally did. I relieved myself and exited the bathroom, making my way back outside to continue our car-spotting adventure, since there was still nothing else going on.
Immediately I was asked if I was gay.
“No,” was my immediate and honest reply. I wasn’t gay. Never thought I had been, and turning down sex while you’re at work (even in a strip club) is a pretty typical thing for a guy. Some of us just don’t want to do it. Wasn’t that I was not attracted to her because she was a very cute 18 year old girl from Mexico with a couple tattoos and a very natural fit body, I just wasn’t about to get fired over getting my dick wet on shift.
I was interrogated some more on the subject, with the girls assuring me no one would find out. At this point I felt I was being set up so I said that this particular topic of discussion was closed and would not be brought up again.
That statement would normally work in any other manager/employee situation, but we’re talking about strippers. It took all of an hour for it to be brought back up, again I was in the back trying to do something and again she followed me. This time however she wasn’t alone, and her roommate who was also a dancer at the club was there as a wingman, and did a very good job convincing me to pull my dick out.
I will say right now that I do not have your typical porn-star huge cock. You can see it in other parts of this site (or will be able to eventually if you download our videos). But as far as typical guys go, I am well above average, and apparently this eighteen year old hadn’t been around too many well endowed guys because even limp she concluded at first glance that my dick was bigger than anyone she’s seen before. She was either being honest or full of shit – but frankly my ego won’t allow me to think anything but the former so that’s what I’m going with.
Her hand went straight for it and with the other girl still in the room she began attempting to get it hard. I, unlike most guys I know who are my age – don’t run around with an instant boner the second a girl shows interest, but I have a serious fetish for doing sexual things in places I know damn well I shouldn’t. So while I was trying to maintain a cool composure, I also had a cute young chick wearing 8″ stilettos and a bikini barely covering anything playing with my dick.
My man-urges got the best of me when the other girl told me she’d keep an eye out for customers or worse the owners, and the girl playing with my dick lead me once again into the bathroom.
She spit on her hand and got my dick wet as she bent over one of the urinals and lowered her bottoms just enough for her already wet little pussy to peek out and guided my now rock hard cock into her. Trying my best not to get anything on my suit I went to town on her, and about 5 minutes later after she had already came twice, pulled out and blew a load on the floor. I didn’t see the need to clean it up since I figured I wasn’t the first person to nut in this bathroom, and we both exited and went back to business as usual.
She had a very accomplished and very pleased look on her face as she gingerly sat back on the stool outside, and discussion returned to normal. Everybody knew what had just happened but thankfully no one was talking about it. I’m not a shy person by any stretch of the word but I really don’t like to talk about it in a work setting. Although that would soon change too, it seemed.
The rest of the night played out the same way as it had before my bathroom bang-out occurred. We sat watching traffic go by and once again I had to close out my shift paperwork with a bunch of zeros. I made absolutely no money that night but I wasn’t at all concerned with it at that point. Her and I text each other after we left, and decided that our relationship had to stay professional as possible at the club, but neither of us were interested in stopping the relationship there. We weren’t interested in having an actual emotional relationship, but we concluded that our physical relationship could continue outside of work.
I then learned a very tricky but very valuable lesson about running cabarets.
to be continued
June 14th, 2010 at 6:37 am
[...] part 10 [...]