Thursday, November 09, 2006

annoying yankee fucker

Last night was the worst. I had a customer and wanted to punch his smarmy little lights out.

Around a year and a half ago my friends and I rocked into a little China Town place after dancing the night away at some gay bar. We were loud, trashy and quite, quite drunk. I must have ate about 5 plates of chcicken wings, - being the token stripper amongst a load of gay students I could afford it!! We got talking to the table of American businessmen sitting next to us, yaknow, the usual "What can we do in this town" stuff. I probably told them to go to my club, its open late enough!
I totally forgot about that night when last summer I came back from NYC ( how very cosmopolitan I am when single) and there was a voicemail on my phone from one of the dweeby fuckers. I had drunkly given them my number!!!

TWAT!

But of course, I didn't reply - it was too late. Then this week I got another text - "Peter American" came up on the sender screen. I thought it was a customer that I met in my club in NYC, or here, or wherever, but I told him I was working tonight so if he wanted to see me so much, he could come in, thankyou very much. Like I am going to use up one of my nights off on going around London with some man I can't even remember!

HIM: (TXT) That's a great idea- I have a business dinner now - I hope its done by 9! Peter

He comes in, and texts me again - I am sitting by the front stage, wearing a dark blue sut I hope you recognise me. I look like a YAnk!!

Yank? Wanker more like. But I see who he is ( can still barely remember meeting him, let alone remembering his face)
Anyway, turns out he owns his own investment firm. £££$$$$$$ hooray££££$$$$$

We got on great - or at least you pretend you do, I haven't felt such contempt for a dweeby sleazy little shit before. What the hell was I thinking a year ago? He didn't know that I worked there, but it was his dreams come true, and yes he would love to see me ....blah blah....

Peter; So what are those little rooms back there?
Me: Lets go take a look - I can give you a few dances in there. (DON'T FEIGN INNOCENCE WITH ME)
Peter: Yes but explain to me. What goes on in there exactly?
Me: (smiling) I get to take every little last thing off - I bet thats not how you expected to see me but its too good an opportunity to refuse. (STOP WASTING MY TIME AND GET IN THERE)
Peter: So let me see. You take me in there and I get to see all ur beautiful body....
So my options are.......
Fancy this happening - you know, if I had imagined this last year....

In fact, the whole night the cock was repeating things DELIBERATELY to waste MY time and save HIM money. Then he insisted I drank tequila, so I got stonking drunk and couldn't then go hustle - thanks for forcing it down my throat you prick.

He said we would do a sitdown, so went to the ATM, which was out of order, then called the chip girl over TWICE but he kept on saying "time out, time out, " - possiblly the most annoying phrase in the world.

Well I was getting desperate - the club was full, every1 making money bar me, so I called him a prick, blamed the tequila, said it was all his fault and stormed off for a bit of a cry in the hen house ( our changing rooms)

Then I came out, after wondering why I had let myself get so upset over some annoyance waste of space creature thing.

He was still there, said he would get me some money, we went for a double dance with Rouge, then when the money girl came over he said time out again!! And walked off.

I HATE WALKERS.
they get ur hopes up, waste ur time, then if the manager has charged you for a sit down, maybe your money - at least you have to argue and beg with them after. I thought I was self employed!! Not the way your treated tho.

I promptly made 6 more dances, and went home at 3.20am. I had wasted 2 1/2 hrs with him - thats a potential £600, when I made £150 off him - and have a horrible hangover this am.


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Well, now that off my chest, I can go make myself pretty in the university toilets and forget all about it. Rather than save last nights money, or pay bills, I am taking the boy out for dinner at a posh Japanese restaurant. I have a TasteLondon card, so can get discouts at a bunch of fancy restaurants - whoohoo!!
See - a night of pain, a bit of financial gain(not enough), and blam! a night of romance with a NICE man.
cant wait for the sex at the end, either.....

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