Nearly as important to the functioning of a strip club biosphere as the Strippers, the denizens who inhabit the titty bar ecosystem are equally critical to a club's survival. In a perfect world all of the Regulars would be generous wealthy and classy guys who harbored no secret agenda of panty-sniffing, clandestine BJ's or renting various orifices for later use. But when was that last time you looked around and thought to yourself, "Golly. What a perfect world."
That's what I thought.
There are nearly endless varieties of strip club Denizens, all neatly subdivided by the esteemed Dr. Mosser into their Family groups, such as Drug Dealers, Regulars, Occasional Enthusiasts, Frustrated Pervs, Predatory Part Timers, etc etc.
What I'll be detailing in my selections from the good doctor's work will be examples that pertain to my club, all the fair minded, generous types I deal with.
Lurking Larry's: They're like shadow people, they melt away at the approach of a Stripper, backing into a hole like a retreating meerkat. They aren't at the club to spend money or talk to pretty girls, they're far too socially awkward/psychopathic to actually talk to one of the Vagina-ed, they just like looking at them and thinking about whatever it is they think about.
I've found it's best not to ponder too deeply on the matter, just be prepared to eventually hit one of them with a barstool when he finally goes feral on some girl he's been obsessing about.
Dayshift Daycare: We have a slew of Dayshift regulars that clearly have psychological issues who hang out at the club all day every day as if it was some sort of topless-staffed Halfway House. There's no cover charge if you get there early enough, maybe an hour or two after the shelter kicks them out for the day I'm guessing. I don't know what the fuck's going on with them, but so far they haven't caused any problems that I'm aware of. Still I'm suspicious.
Now call me paranoid, but seeing as how there's ZERO security on our Dayshift, it means these obviously troubled folks can waltz in with whatever they want on their person, they certainly aren't gonna get frisked at the door.
And some day I wouldn't be surprised if one of them went all stalky-stab on a dancer or anyone else who gets in his way or tried to stop him. Like a Floor Host. Like me.
I'm sorta like a Panda Bear in fight. Yes you can stab me and eventually you'll cut something critical, but with a blade under 5 inches and stabs to the torso with me resisting, it'll probably take a while. But to further complicate survival scenarios on my part, I'll probably need a rest before my crazy-powered attacker does, thus meaning I'll more than likely just get hacked to pieces unless I can break his spine or neck quickly enough.
I give it a 60/40 chance in favor of the blade wielding maniac unless I can get my hands on a bottle or a previously deceased stripper carcass to use as a shield/unconventional weapon.*2
Eldertharios: A portmanteau of Elderly and Lothario, meaning an old pervert. Like a guy in his 60's or 70's still trying to buy teen poony. Or just look at it. Or buy panties that have touched it. Whatever. It's creepy and I don't care for it one bit. No I don't. Keep it to your browser, grey-dick.
Doesn't help that it's a rare Elderthario that actually fucking tips. Most just want to grunt one out as cheaply as possible with the help of a drunk girl's thong, with or without her in it.
Fucking despicable, but there you have it.
Remoras: Small sucker-like losers that somehow attach themselves to Hotty-Shark Dancers. They almost never mate with these gals and are constantly forced to merely swim around while their hotty-shark is getting banged by much more aggressive and frequently criminal sharks. They're used to it.
Remoras are often a default landing pad for strippers rejected by the latest guy to get sick of them. Remoras offer the refuge of a financial coral reef in exchange for the merest whiff of gangster-pounded pudenda and seem to enjoy hand laundering semen stains that aren't their own.
Sad really. Seen it a million times. Always gives me a skeeve-chill.
Rappers: Listen, I get it. You're a rapper and thus incredibly important and make WAY more money than me, which as we all know automatically makes you a better person. Please relate to me how much better you are than me based on income when I don't know who you are. I don't know rappers because I'm not a rap fan.*3
Before you get all offended allow me to state that 98% of musicians from bands I really love could come to the club and I wouldn't know who the fuck they are either.
I'm not up on shit. I like what I like but don't always look at pictures of it or remember shit if I did.
Don't take it personal and things will go better for both of us. This is a great guideline for almost the entirety of the human experience:
DON'T TAKE IT PERSONAL*4
Gropers: Gropers are usually virgins. Doesn't make any difference how old they are, 21 or 81, what they all have in common is that they've never had their wang in a cooch, or to be fair, maybe once or twice in their miserable, lonely lives. Probably for less than thirty seconds in all.
A groper's MO is to grab as much ass and squeeze as much titty as they can get away with for the price of admission and a tap water. Then they take the memory of the suppleness of said ass or titty home with them and savage their members remorselessly until the inevitable happens. These poor fucks have realized and more importantly come to terms with the fact that they have no qualities that the opposite sex might find attractive and therefore embrace the Groper ethos: grab her and then grab yourself, preferably with the same hand.
I'm not opposed to this doctrine on a moral basis, I've been known to crank one out after having only gotten to second base with a girl. You gotta do what you gotta do. The difference is I wasn't groping a girl who made her living from being groped (mostly) and ergo I didn't feel obligated to tip the gal whereas a Groper should definitely tip the girl he's gonna fap to later.
It's just the right thing to do. Consider it a rental cost for the spank-bank download it created.
Amusing things I've heard from customers lately:
1) We had this wee, passport carrying Irishman in the other day. He was shitfaced when he came into the club and I tried not think stereotypical thoughts about that. Anyway, I see him at various points in the night and I'll give the guy this-although he could've been outsmarted by bacteria at any point I saw him, dude walked just fine. I wouldn't have been able to tell he was drunk by watching him walk, which is normally a dead giveaway.
But if he spoke more than a word to you, shit became obvious real quick.
Like the time I was headed out to the patio to check things out and he was headed back into the club. He stopped me and said something like: "yer door's not working anymore, lad." Referring to the door he had literally just walked through.
I replied that it was never designed to 'filter wee drunk Celts' and he just blinked at me, crinkled up his brow and walked away.
It was very satisfying.
2) "Dis ATM not give me money. Why it not give me money? I try tree times, a-whooga whooga whooga."
Hmmmmmmm, baffling. Let's look at the receipt for valuable clues, shall we? Ah yes, there it is.
YOUR FUCKING CARD IS EXPIRED, YOU SHOT GLASS FULL OF CYST FLUID.
I would submit to you that maybe more money is the last thing you need at this moment. That being said, let me help you obtain more dough, valued customer! Let's see what other credit cards you have it that stinky wallet and start thrusting them randomly into that bastard of an ATM.
The ATM is the enemy who is withholding your hard earned money from you. The ultimate nemesis. The only way to achieve victory is to successfully pull out some cash. Make it cum money into your hand, you shitfaced sock-molester!
3) "I'm going to call my lawyer because I did not receive the totally illegal act promised to me if I paid for a Champagne Room. Gonna call the cops too."
Think for one moment about the utter ridiculousness of that statement and tell me, dear reader, if that's something you'd actually do, think about doing or use as a threat against your perceived transgressors at the good ole neighborhood Slitty-Shack. Only a mongoloid-level drunk motherfucker could possibly think that it's either a good idea or that somehow it may work out for them and not cost them 10 times what they lost in the club.
Listen, if a stripper says she'll blow you in a champagne room or that she'll bang you senseless for an extra $100, take it with a grain of salt you wasted, dickbrained sot. Prostitution, which fucking in a champagne room definitely qualifies as, is illegal nearly everywhere in Amurrika.
This is the equivalent of calling 911 and stating to them that the guy you gave money to for an 8-ball of cocaine and a willing boy-child ripped you off, providing neither blow nor pre-teen and you'd like law enforcement to do something about it. How dare this guy not provide the narcotics nor pedophilia you prepaid for?
What is the world coming to?
'I pay your wages' and so forth you should tell them when you report the crime, they can relate to things like that. No seriously.
Any attorney worth his salt would give you the following advice: "Give up. Chalk it up as a loss and for God's sake go home before you make things worse for yourself. I bill in 15 minute increments, you owe me $75. Goodnight"
AND FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS YOU HOLD SACRED, LISTEN TO YOUR LEGAL COUNSEL. HE/SHE IS WISE WHILE YOU ARE DRUNK AND/OR AN IDIOT.
If they bill you $75 for this advice, you should tip them. By suggesting you walk the fuck away and make it into some kind of brolktale*5 you tell your drinkin buddies, they have done you a service, genius.
But only if you choose to follow that $75 advice. It's up to you..
There's always the hard way...
4) "Why you not have no girls with big booties? Best ho in dere couldna been a buck-sixty!"*6
Different clubs serve different clientele. What one demographic considers attractive, another may not. There are many examples of this, in my experience, all across ethnic and socio-economic lines.
None of these are rock solid realities of course, but they are generally pretty fair assumptions to make. You'll be correct more times than you're wrong, if you're a betting person.
Although based in majority consensus over my 20 year career, These observations will nevertheless be offensive to the sorts of folks who probably shouldn't be reading this blog in the first place.
-Asian men, i.e. actual men from Asia as opposed to Asian-Americans, generally aren't interested in Asian strippers. They normally like blonde pale types, black girls or latinas. Who can blame them? Everyone likes something exotic, something different that what you normally see on a day to day basis.
-Indian men are much the same as Asian men, they like pale girls with rosy pink naughty parts because it's out of the ordinary for them.
-Black guys seem to like dancers with no upper limit of ass. A stripper could drag a Death-Star sized ass up on stage and as long as she could make it clap in a way that is seismically measurable, they'd be lining up to make it rain on her. There is no such thing as 'too much ass'.
-Hispanic dudes tend to like white girls and hispanic girls.
-Arabic guys like anything with a vagina because they don't really consider them human per se. More like collectables you can jizz in that also do the housework.
And all that horribly offensive shit being said, it's time to end this installment, for the good of mankind.
Tune in next time when I talk about something I haven't thought about yet and hope I can finish in a timely fashion.
Until then, I remain
Your StripperHerder
*1 Shatnanigans: Past tense of Shitnanigans, or dumb -uckery that has already happened.
*2 Such as a Buckler-Corpse, a Cadaver Mace, a Meat-Heater, a Stab-Absorbing Puppet or a Gristle-Targa
*3 Listen here's the deal: no one in the 'real world' will take you seriously as a VIP of any sort if you brag about how much money you have/make, but don't give anyone any of it. Someone who has "millions" and likes to boast about it yet is a non-tipping cheapskate, is not a 'VIP' and never will be.
If I was worth "millions" and I liked to brag about it, I would hand out $100 bills like they were fucking candy. I would ooze them like a snail travels on a trail of it's own slime because why not? Thousands of dollars don't me shit to me, ninja, I make that every four minutes, yo. I tipped 300 people a hundred dollar bill one night and it made their fucking day. They will ALWAYS remember me as one cool, generous motherfuckering celebrity as opposed to the average tightwad famous egomaniac who felt his presence was tip enough for any establishment.
Like I can pay my fucking rent with apathetic celebrity selfie pics.
Fuck you.
*4 As someone who takes a lot of verbal abuse as part and parcel of his career, let me pose a question to my general audience:
If I showed you a picture of someone you've never seen before and didn't know from Adam and asked you if this person's opinion meant anything at all to you, I feel like most people who say "No, I don't know this person and thus his/her opinion probably doesn't mean shit to me."
I may or may not be correct in this assumption, but I feel I'm close enough to 50/50 to stand by my following statement:
Then why would it matter if you met this person, whose opinion doesn't matter to you, face to face and they insulted you in some generic way. How is it different? They are posing an opinion, that you're a jizz-bonging sweat-shrimper who's looser than moose cooze on a hot day.
If their opinion didn't mean anything to you when they were just a picture, then why does it matter if they're juts a face in an asshole crowd?
Seriously, think about it. It all goes back to a basic FACT of human behavior i.e: on a one to one basis any person's words only have power over another person if said person allows it.
*5 Brolktale: A portmanteau of Bro and Folktale, or the lies you tell your buddies about sex you never had.
*6 Literal quote. Not making things up like I am sometimes wont to do. Customer expressed dissatisfaction with the perceived lack of portliness of our dancer corps. Like a 5'5 dancer who only weighs 140 lbs is somehow hideously emaciated and needs 80 lbs more of pure ASS. As if a perfect ass is so large and unwieldly that it needs training wheels or a cart to haul it around.
Fucking get over it.
