This whole post is going to be about stuff I talk about on a regular basis, namely human stupidity and other shit that happens all the time at our club.
Human stupidity is an unfortunate side dish you're going to eat a lot of when working in the booze slinging portion of the service industry. It is the curse of a vengeful God who is pissed off because you're able to make a living without intense and protracted physical labor, or the blessing of the Church.
Now that being said, I'm going to offer up some justification for my hostility towards dumb people.
I, myself, am not dumb by any means. I are actually pretty smart. I have the ability to learn anything at all that I am interested in without expending all that much effort.
The problems in the path of my intellect, not unlike tree trunks laid across a bullet train's tracks, are as follows:
A) I'm not interested in anything that is practical, useful or could make me large amounts of money.
B) My intelligence is hampered by a healthy dose of poor impulse control, laziness and the inability to deny myself instant gratification.
C) It's easier to be smug about my intellect than to really apply it to something outside of trivia.
D) I am afraid of failure, therefore it's easier to just not challenge myself in any way rather than to venture and lose.
E) I hate 95% of mankind so I wouldn't want to accidentally make any kind of breakthrough that might benefit them.
So stupidity is one of my all time pet peeves. I can accept ignorance I suppose, but I feel like the truly stupid should stay at home and work on being less of an idiot rather than going out among other humans and spreading their stupid-spore.
-The ATM: Listen, I know I've pretty well covered the ATM in at least 3 other posts I can think of. How can I possibly have anything amusing left to say about ATM's and the morons who try to use them?
Well, I don't. ATM's aren't intrinsically amusing machines, they are not built with humor in mind at all. They simply give you money from your account when you perform a very familiar and simple set of tasks that you've performed thousands of times before. In fact here is a list of terms that don't describe an ATM whatsoever and may literally be construed as antonyms of the ATM experience for most people.
-Baffling, Mysterious, Enigmatic, Confusing, Alien, Conundrum, Riddle, Mathematically Impossible, Fiendishly Difficult, Like Super Hard Dude, Lottery and Utterly Flummoxing.
Let me take this opportunity to point out that there are only 4 possible ways to begin an ATM transaction, thus leading to a random 25% chance of getting it right on your first try, and leading to a 25% gain in odds with each successive attempt, unless you're a fuckwit in which case you could be there forever.
The card can only be inserted into the machine in four ways:
-Mag strip up and to the left.
-Mag strip up and to the right.
-Mag strip down and to the left.
-Mag strip down and to the right.
That's it. Four possibilities. There is no fourth dimension, no secret language and no esoteric alchemy involved whatsoever. Therefore if you feel like you've tried all four of these possibilities and you still can't make the ATM give you money, you're drunk-go home.
I would never think to ask a stranger to help me use an ATM because that would be admitting that I'm a complete fucking lipdragger and I won't do that unless it's a close friend of mine (who already realizes that I can drink myself back to fetal stage). Seriously, in the annals of defeat, being vanquished by a bank teller machine ranks really high on the list of stunning idiocy. Children use ATM's.
These conquered people will always make it seem like the ATM is somehow at fault, not them. The poor abused ATM will even spit out a receipt when it fails to yield money saying why it didn't give you any. All one has to do is read it for a valuable clue.
Frequent drunk hurdles to successful ATM use are:
-You've gone over your allotted withdraw limit or exceeded the number of transactions allowed per day.
-You've asked for too much money. Most strip clubs have a transaction limit so that someone who wants an inadvisable amount of cash will have to do multiple transactions thus making the club more money through it's insane ATM fees.
-You entered an incorrect PIN code, you fucking retard.
-God hates you and so does everybody else.
More Stupid Stripper Tricks, Vol 17
-Champagne Room Ninja: At any club you care to name, the dancer gets paid a certain amount for a VIP room and the club takes the rest. If the room is $500 an hour, chances are the dancer is only going to get $200-300 of that.
SO some stwippers think that they can just sneak into a room with a customer, have him pay the full amount for the room and keep it all. Like the Floor Gripes aren't going to notice. We may be big and simple, but we're not big and stupid...
-But the Manager Said: Sometimes a stripper will come up to you and say something horribly wrong sounding and follow it up "Insert Manager's Name Here said it would be OK."
You fuckwit stripper. I have a radio. Your machinations cannot outrun a radio signal.
Never stopped them from trying though.
-I'll Tip You Next Time: Yup, the check is in the mail. Payment is forthcoming. No seriously, I got you. Sure, Jesus is real.
Based on these fleeting guarantees, I figure I'm owed $72,334 over the course of my career, give or take a few dollars. I keep telling myself I should keep a small notepad and pen handy at all times and always make a note when a dancer tells me this and make sure she sees me doing it.
Not that this would help any.
And finally...I'm giving myself a medal tonight. It's not a medal for doing something great, it's a medal for not doing something terrible.
"Don't you fail to choke a bitch every night?" you ask. Well yes, yes I refrain from throttling a loony cunt every single day I work, but tonight was something a bit special. You see we have this dancer named, I don't know, let's refer to her as Toby because she's built like a 12 year old boy whose parents inexplicably decided to ram some fake C cup titties into him.
So Toby and some other daffy twat we'll call Stinky claim they did 5 dances for a guy and that he owes them $125 each. I caught the guy as he was trying to flee the club and said gimme me a minute and I'll get this worked out. So I contact the Counter to find out how many dances these girls actually did.
Well it turns out the Counter was busy doing something else and had failed to count any of their dances at all so we had no proof as to how many dances this guy did or didn't do. Add into this equation that unless he gets physical with me first, I can't actually put my hands on him at all without opening myself and the club up for a lawsuit. So all the man had to do was make his way in a determined and nonviolent fashion out the door to sweet, sweet freedom and there was fuck all I could do about it.
So taking into account all these facts, plus the added tidbits that stacking dances is (still) not allowed at the club and that Toby is a shitty tipper, my motivation level wasn't very high. I get the guy to agree to pay them for 3 dances each for a total of $150 and, having explained the situation to the girls, get them to accept payment for 3 dances. I get his credit card to run the club's funny money to pay the dancers.
What I failed to mention is the upcharge on the funny money, the 15% the club tacks on to rape customers. I return to him with a receipt for $172.50, not the $150 he was expecting and he flat out refuses to pay the extra $22.50. As if somehow he wasn't still getting away with fucking murder, financially speaking. We finally convince the guy to go to the ATM (which to his credit he was able to use on the first try) and get $150
SO at the end of the night the mismanager, Sir Oswald Cabbagemaster VII refuses to let Toby slide on her house fees, a paltry $25. Both Toby and Sir Oswald start screaming, she about losing out on $50, he about losing $25.
I'd like to pause for a moment just to mention that I've seen Toby walk out with $500-1000 on many nights. Despite her lack of physical charms, she gets by on a latent pedophile gene some men obviously carry which makes them crave young boys but feel OK about it if the boys have breast implants.
We're talking about $50 here folks...
Toby of course resorts to tears but Sir Cabbagemaster was unmoved. She had to pay the house fee.
Stinky for her part, rather than appreciating she was gonna get paid for some of the dances she did, rather than none, just got all shitty and said that if she had to suffer then everyone was going to suffer.
Fuck you, Stinky.
You know, I thought I was going to be done here, but I have a final gripe to add inspired by Stinky bitching about how she was raising a child all on her own and that men like tonight's asshole didn't understand how hard that is.
Well I can sympathize, but only in a limited manner. What I'm really tired of is how some parents complain about how hard raising a child/children is. Fucking duh. Turns out it can be pretty challenging, huh?
Who would've thought?
My problem with all this is they make it seem like offspring are just something that happened, like your car breaking down, or the bus running late. Like they have no culpability in the matter whatsoever and we should somehow have extra pity on them for making poor decisions or a lack of planning.
I've said it once and I will reiterate it because I believe in it strongly, it's no mystery how kids are made. They aren't dropped off by random watershed inhabiting birds and they don't just spontaneously appear in patches of leafy green vegetables. Accept a load of happy little sperm in your vagina without using birth control and you may just have one of the wee buggers start growing in you.
Absolutely zero rocket science involved.
So, why the fat hairy fuck should I feel some sort of extra sympathy for you because you didn't have to foresight to demand a load be pumped onto your face rather than in your hoo-ha? Just because you didn't have to presence of mind not to use birth control, or decided to have a child with someone who you didn't know well enough to realize he was going to disappear when you told him you were pregnant?
I don't get it.
Ladies, I'm not exonerating men for responsibility here, far from it. But most of my experience in this area stems form females, not males, so I'm a bit biased and extremely fed up with women who think the world somehow owes them some sort of indulgence for being sexually stupid or irresponsible. Grow the fuck up.
And while I'm on the subject of irresponsible breeding, why the hell would someone who makes $10 an hour, can't drive and indeed doesn't even own a car, impregnate a chick? Seriously, can anyone tell me? That's what one of our cooks did and he even managed to do it with a girl he really hates as an added bonus.
I just don't understand the way some people think. I was listening to the radio a few months back and there was an interview with a sad Spanish couple. They were sad because with all the economic hardships and fiscal austerity measures going on in Spain, they couldn't afford to have a child. It was simply beyond their financial means.
Well fuck, I thought. Move to America. Not being able to afford having children stops absolutely no one from doing it anyway. Don't worry about it, there's plenty of dumbshit taxpayers here, like me, who will help you feed your poorly thought out offspring. Continue your careless breeding, we're here for you.
All that being said there is no fucking rules at all about how to proceed through life. It states, absolutely no where, that you are born, you grow up, you get a job, you get married, you have kids and then you die.
There is no obligation to reproduce. If children are your idea of happiness, then by all means start squeezing them out, just ask yourself if you can support them first because I'm tired of paying for them.
That is all. Hate mail can be sent to stripperherder@yahoo.com. I relish it.
Fuck your couch,
-The StripperHerder
