Tonight didn't go very smoothly.
I bet you never would've guessed that by the title. I bet you thought, "Hmm, that's quite a title. This man obviously loves his job and he's gonna wax eloquent about how great it is to do what he does. I mean the ungrateful prick gets to stare at titties all damn day AND gets paid for it! Tell me that ain't a sweet deal? If I worked at a strip club I would get so much head and bang so many bitches..."
Sure. Abso-sucking-lutely. Then you get fired when a dancer turns on you. And that will happen as sure as the the big ball of burning stuff rises in the east every morning. They will bite the dick that feeds/and or gets fed upon.
Now don't get me wrong, I've worked with guys who shagged so many strippers it was like there was a small brush fire in their pants due to all the smoke coming off their stinkhammers. But these guys are a minority and they seldom last long at any given club.
When I first got in tonight things took a turn for the stupid early on and I remember thinking to myself, "Golly. I hope this isn't an omen of things to come."
Well, it was.
It was as if there was an Asshole Trade Show on one side of town and a Drunken Fucktard Convention on the other and we sent out naked girls to hand out eight balls of blow wrapped in free passes for our club.
Shit was stupid tonight is what I'm trying to convey.
By my count at least 16 murders and/or severe beatings should have been perpetrated by our security staff tonight. Seriously, 19.
People need to fear the truncheon again.
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I have a pretty fair amount of finely distilled ill will inside me and I work hard to protect the world from it. Earning a good living and keeping my job depends on me being able to either:
A) Interact with customers in a way that makes them want to give me money.
B) Disguise the fact that I constantly hope human extinction is just around the corner.
C) Get strippers to like me while at the same time I am expected to police them for nefarious behavior.
'Herdin ain't easy...
And you know what else? I know I've covered this before but it certainly bears mentioning again after last night's The Running of the Housefraus.
Why The Fuck is it that every drunk, grisly old woman that comes into the club instantly transforms (in their own minds) into a sexy, alluring nymphet bent on doing monstrous things with her weathered goods?
There were at least 2 tables this past Friday that were thrown out because of the women, not the guys.
It was brutal to behold.
I think I've mentioned it before but I'll say it again, I'm not much of a herd mammal. I don't understand herd behavior. I understand pack behavior and, if pressed, would admit to being very much a pack animal. Without the support of friends and family I wouldn't be here now.
That being said it seems fucking anathemic to me to actually want to go to a bar/restaurant/public gathering place that is insanely packed with people.
A stupid, shuffling, intoxicated bipedal amoeba of horrifying proportions subject to herd panic?
Yeah, that sounds like a good fucking time.
And while I'm at it can I wait 20 minutes to get a drink from inept, overwhelmed bartenders?
Fucking sweet.
Moo, you assholes. Moo.
-The StripperHerder
