Thursday, November 13, 2008

stripper pole and dinner date etiquette


it has been raining all day in north jersey at the jlc compound...as i sit here sippin a cup of tea letting my two diner trips deposit fat into my tummy i have been mulling over my performances at various venues in the florida area." how much time do you spend on the runway? do you try to incorporate your dance partners style or do you flip it down and just go ol' school freestyle? do you grind the person on the box with you if they are ugly? and/or female? is crawling on the catwalk considered a little too atlanta ghetto banshee black girl hoochie? if you spill your drink on your partner while straddling the pole is that considered a risk factor...just like if you play football you might get tackled..break a limb and get some grass stains on your outfit...actually, i think the NFL scotch guards their stuff real good. and how many times can you flash your "on vacation" card to the bouncer when he escorts you off the box? i say at least 10 times and after that 10th hole punch you should get a free shot of starbucks espresso or an irish car bomb...that is all i am saying...memberships has its rewards these days.
that then brings me back to a tiny little dish of drama i was served up last wed. night in philly. i went to dinner with a friend who i briefly dated last year. i was staying with some friends that night before i flew out to florida.so, i thought it would be nice to catch up with him over cocktails and some rations before i went to their apartment.
it started off cute. martinis flowin'..cheese platter goin'...well, 5 or 6 tinis deep the conversation started to get a bit funky..and i was hearin' that i was thoughtless, living in a bubble down in cape may, blah blah..well, that did not help wash down my beef oxtail over mac/cheese honey.
a couple more cocktails later, we were in the pouring rain walking to his car and he is yelling like a school girl....WHAT ABOUT MY NIGHT? WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT TO DO? WHATI AM JUST A FILLER TO YOU? actually, the icing on the queer cupcakes was when he raced off from 0 to 60 in his car with all of my stuff in the car...including my new apple macbook....p.s. this is a respected professional business man from philly...i think someone is blowing some bubbles thru a crazy straw in his parts..i know all my bleeders are on the edge of their seats thinking..OH MY GOD DID YOU GET YOUR STUFF BACK???? oh please, his drunk ass drove right around the block..you know i was ready to call the police and give them the 411. shit, no is going to fuck up my plans to visit my bbf in clearwater.... bottom feeder line is he thought i was going to go back to his place so he could get laid....really? really. it boils down to etiquette and what is classy? and what is white trash? and what is just down right a fucking hot mess! I guess I am going to have to check with emily post, miss manners, and www.gaydinnerdates.com whether a dozen martinis and a perfectly braised piece of meat means pull out your cock and legs over head, boy and is the boxes and catwalks at clubs there for you to act like a complete jerk off or should we just reserve them for the professional strippers who are working to pay their rent, put captain crunch on the table for their 3 kids, and support their coke habit at age 19.
life is a mystery....... and hello, madonna said that shit

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