Last weekend, my on-again/off-again manfriend came to Charlotte and after a fun night out, we discussed stopping by a strip club on the way home. My girl Siri pointed us to one called Leather & Lace so we decided to try it out. I'd never been to a strip club before but the world's about to end soon so I figured why not?
The first thing I noticed was just how NAKED these girls were. I've never seen so many boobs and butt cheeks in my life. The second thing I noticed was how skinny they were. Not sexy skinny either; they were literally skeletons in g-strings. Size zeros, A-cups. Now I'm "strictly dickly" but I will say that I love the shape of a woman--women are gorgeous and curvy women especially are incredibly sexy. These girls weren't sexy. Had they not been naked, they would have fit right in on one of those feed-a-child-for-15-cents-a-day commercials. Yuck.
Manfriend wanted to buy me a lapdance but I told him I got to pick the girl, and frankly all of the girls were too tiny for my taste. And then Candi (I don't remember her actual name, but Candi seems appropriate) came out. And boy, was she huge.
While manfriend was adjusting to the literal elephant in the room, I was checking her out, seeing if she was good enough for his $5 and my lapdance. She was a tad cellulite-y, but aren't we all? (Note: I'm only saying that to make y'all feel better. Again, my body is perfect). I turned to tell manfriend that she was The One, but he was chatting up a skeleton in a Santa hat and two seconds later, the skeleton's 5-inch heels were on my shoulders and that was that.
Later in the night, I called Candi over for a dance. I'm not sure if she thought I wasn't worth the $5, but she didn't dance and instead, pulled up a chair and started to chat. She was sweet but an over-sharer, assuring me she didn't wear plus size clothes and confiding in me that she thinks the other girls smoke crack to maintain their figures. Very awkward--I'm not sure how I responded but it was the verbal equivalent of responding "K" to a text message. I later told her that she had the best body out of all of the women there; she responded with a "thank you" and then started gushing about how amazing my body was (see! I told y'all), how I had a great body for stripping, and how I should apply for a job at Leather & Lace. I am a sucker for flattery--ten minutes later I was putting the last of manfriend's money in her g-string and getting smacked in the face by her DD cups.
Eight days later and I'm still considering filling out an application (or whatever it is you do to become a stripper). I hate being touched and I hate being told what to do, but besides that it'd be great. Easy money plus you're surrounded by people who think you're beautiful, which I'm already accustomed to.
My stripper name is supposed to be Sandy Kirby (first pet + street you grew up on) but my body is more of a Chocolate Fantasy or a Cinnamon Glitter, don't you agree?
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