The Irish agent gave me a "trial party" last weekend, meaning my future of working for him depended on solely on this performance. He referred to this weekends's show as a "hen party," which is better known as a bachelorette party in the States. The only information I received was a text message on my phone with a girl's name and a phone number.
I called the girl, whose name is K (first letter of her real name), and she told me to meet her at a place called the Mardyke. The Mardyke was a large, stone building that resembled a small 17th century castle. It had several bars (almost every Irish place has a bar), a bowling alley, pool tables, and karaoke booths. I was going to strip in a karaoke booth, which was also a first for me. I attached a picture of the Mardyke so you can see for yourself:
K met me at the front door outside, gave me the money, and took me inside. As you can see from the outside, the place is huge. K led me to the karaoke booth where the hen party was located.
I entered to a den full of Irish girls (with one exception).
The bachelorette, who was actually Polish, was not expecting me. She had very blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and her facial features epitomized my ideal of beauty. She wore a black one-piece dress. She expressed surprise, which changed to pleasure as soon as I started stripping for her. The other girls cheered, and two of them continued singing karaoke.
I stripped down to my thong and danced with a few other girls. Yet, they directed me back toward the Polish girl, because it was suppose to be her party. I danced with her for about fifteen minutes. I must say that she had a lot of energy. Afterward, I posed for photos with her and her friends.
I got dressed. The girls helped me gather my things. They were extremely polite. Very few girls would do such a thing in the States, so I felt pleased, and thanked them for their generosity.
As I was on my way to leave, I hugged every girl on the way out. K, the girl who hired me, kissed me on both cheeks. The Polish bachelorette ran up to me, grabbed my face, and gave me a long, strong kiss on the lips. She held onto me for at least ten seconds. The girls cheered her on.
I left in a daze. I stopped down the hallway several paces outside of their karaoke booth to ensure I had everything with me. I heard the girls talking about me, so I lingered a moment longer to eavesdrop.
"He was SO beautiful!" the Polish girl said, in an excited school-girl type of tone.
I couldn't hear the other comments so clearly, but they sounded like praise. I smiled and left.
Like I said earlier, I wouldn't mind working here. The pay was much better than what I make in the States. Plus, Irish men tend train their alcohol tolerance rather than their bodies, so competition for being a male dancer is almost nil. I hope I can get one more show before I leave here, but having no car does diminish my opportunities for work here.
No comments:
Post a Comment