Sunday, April 15, 2012

catty stripper tales

Man what a night.

I’m going to cut to the chase and talk about work. I went to work today and at the end of the night the bartender told me one of my hustler girlfriends has a champagne room so I went over to check it out, I accidentally walked into the wrong room so this girl SHOVED me out and said “Not this one whore” so I replied“Thanks Bitch” and walked away annoyed. So anyway I go into my champagne room and she opens up the curtains and peeks through, then brings over her friend and they’re like how many girls? I said “none of your business and thanks for being such a bitch to me earlier” And she said “Trying to get knocked out?” and I said “sure, try it babe” and i shut the curtains.

So my manager comes over and asks me what happened. I said nothing she was bringing all of her friends into my room, we didn’t even invite her in so I asked to her to leave and shut the curtain. He’s like “Okay you’re going home”. I’m like ???? home??? He’s like ya you punched her. The girl peeks out and she’s like “huh? … she punched me? … OH! Ya ACTUALLY sure, she did hit me. Stupid fucking cunt” and he’s like, “good job, you’re going home too” so anyways long story short we both got sent home and I argued that I didn’t hit her and asked him to please review the security tapes because it’s dark down there and maybe his vision was impaired with the lighting and the bustling of customer which is a really really nice way of saying i think youve been loving too many happy meals and your eye arteries are clogged. he screams at me as his face goes red and spittle comes from his mouth, DO YOU THINK IM STUPID! I SAW OKAY? NOW YOU’RE FIRED FOR TWO WEEKS. Ah fuck, what do I care? Im not begging to come back. First of all I can’t stand this club, it’s mediocre on the best of nights… and the customers are straight ignorant ALL of the time… secondly… I can’t believe he just cost me a champagne room and if he thinks I’m going to bless him with my presence after that crazy shit he’s losin it. I have clubs blowing up my cell phone, I’m not working somewhere where the manager fucks with my money because he thought he saw a ghost.

This is the second time someone’s stupidity cost me money at that club. A few months ago… before I got my boobs a waitress did her math wrong and I didn’t even get paid for an hour of serious dick grinding in this hellish champagne room where the guy gave me bruises on my boobs. I was like what do you mean you don’t have my money? “oh whoops!” yeah, not working with a fast hard drive are you hunni, no intel inside for you. Like honestly, that’s $800 that this club has lost me on account of someone’s inability to think in dim lighting. Why the fuck would I bother with it.

Not to mention I truly, with the deepest bit of my soul hate working in Toronto anyway. I hate the people in this large city, they’re always rude and pushy and cheap. I’ve expressed this before, it’s no secret. I was debating renewing my Toronto license and now obviously that question’s been answered. I’ve also been debating getting a car so I could work out of town and now that’s been decided too.

Dancing outside of Toronto is so much nicer. The staff is always really sweet, the customers are so respectful they’re almost worshipful. The clientele are younger hot guys who either work the oil rigs or do construction so they have cash to burn and theyre not trying to finger my pussy or anything, whereas in Toronto customers basically hold you down and you have to fight them off, and most of the time they don’t even tip. Not to mention I’d rather work with 10 girls instead of 200. I mean strippers are going to be psycho cunts no matter where I go, but for the most part I’m able to avoid it. I can technically go back to this club, in two weeks, but like I said I’m not begging to go back to a club that can’t get their shit together. The club is poverty and when I do make money some fucking idiot does their best to make sure I don’t get paid. Upwards and onwards im totally over that place.

1 comment:

  1. Sounds like you had your Friday the 13th a day late. Adios, Toronto!

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