Saturday, November 19, 2011

Stripper's Log: November 18, 2011

Yesterday, I had a bachelorette party that sounded promising. The girl who hired me was called Amanda, and her eager and excited tone gave me the hint that this was going to be an exciting party. "The bride is really wild," Amanda told me. "She's going to be down for whatever you do to her, and she's going to be all over you."

Amanda told me the location of the party, which would be at the soon-to-be-bride's house. She also wanted me to dress as a cop and arrive around 9 o'clock. I spoke with Amanda a bit more to get more of a feel for the party and learned that the bride was from Poland and that she would love a male stripper. Her mother, who was also from Poland, was going to be there as well. So far, Amanda's story of the bride told me that I was going to have a bachelorette fondling and groping me more in relation to the amount of alcohol imbibed.

At 7 o'clock, I sent a text message to Amanda asking if the party was still good to go. She replied back, wanting to move the party back to 10 o'clock because the girls were still eating at a restaurant. That was fine with me. It gave me more time to prepare.

At 8:56, Amanda sent me this text message (text message is unedited):

"Something just went down, groom is pissed, we have to cancel. I am so sorry."

Rarely in my career as a stripper has anyone ever cancelled one hour before a show. One day perhaps, but not one hour. I wasn't mad at all. Just curious. I had to find out what happened. Below is the text conversation that I had with Amanda:

Me - 8:57 PM : It's okay. What happened?

Amanda - 8:58 PM : Bad fall out with groom. We are all leaving. I have never been apart of such a circus. I am so sorry.

Me - 9:06 PM : It's fine. Sorry you couldn't have fun. Did the groom show up or something?

Amanda - 9:14 PM : He changed his plans and decided to stay at the house. I tried to tell him that we were hoping for some girl time and he got very disrespectful. We are all leaving and getting a hotel room :(

After reading that, I was glad that she cancelled when she did. If such a dramatic scene unfolded with just the girls there, I could only imagine what would have happened had I shown up and stripped for the bride. The pay loss from such a cancellation was well worth avoiding such a situation.

Here is my theory on what happened: The groom knew that his fiance was a wild party girl and didn't trust her alone with a bunch of girls. Therefore, he showed up to crash the party to prevent anything from happening. Of course, every girl was probably thinking that he was the biggest asshole in the world, but I can't really blame the guy. His suspicions were dead on---his fiance, according to Amanda, was wild and she probably would have tried to "get crazy" with me.

So while I applaud this guy for putting his foot down and standing his ground, I cannot help but wonder why he's marrying such a wild party girl in the first place if he feels like he cannot trust her alone. Hence, this is another example of a man who chooses a mate based on girl's beauty rather than her morals and principles.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Stripper's Log: Friday, 11-11-11

Earlier in the week, I stripped for a 40th birthday party at a beach condo by the Gulf of Mexico. These ladies came all the way down from Illinois, and they requested for a "cowboy stripper" for their wild time away from home. The birthday lady was a small, petite blonde. She had no idea I was coming.

Because I came as a cowboy, my pre-stripping routine came off as awkward. Usually, I arrive as a cop and tell the party that I am responding to a "noise violation" or such nonsense. As a cowboy wearing faux-leather pants, I could not create any justifiable excuse for being there. Nonetheless, I showed up pretending to be a friend of one of the girls, and believe it or not, the birthday girl bought into the charade.

All was well until she discovered that I was an actual stripper. Her reaction stopped me dead in my tracks. She clenched her jaw and glared at the lady who hired me, swearing at her and even kicking at her. "Why the fuck did you hire a stripper for?" she demanded.

At this point, I was wondering if I was even going to strip. In my whole career as a male stripper, I cannot remember a woman becoming angry at having a male stripper. Shocked or embarrassed, maybe. But not angry. The other ladies tried to soothe the birthday girl, but placed her hand against her forehead and sighed in exasperation.

"My husband would kill me! I can't believe you did this."

"No one will say anything," one lady said.

After much coaxing and cajoling, the petite birthday lady finally acquiesced to peer pressure. "Okay, okay... Go ahead," she said, beckoning me with her hand.

Her friends responded gleefully by shoving dollars into her. Before I dove in for them, I told the birthday lady to let me know if I was pushing any boundaries. Then, I proceeded to extract a few dollars from her bra.

"Oh my God, I'm cheating on my husband," she said.

"No you're not," another lady said. "Just enjoy it."

As though she were participating in a poker tournament, her face read no emotion as I took off my cowboy hat and placed it on her head. She wasn't impressed when I took off my shirt. However, when I thrust my ass towards her and pulled down my pants, she came to life.

"Wow," she said, grabbing my ass and shoving a few dollars into my thong. "Okay, maybe this was a good idea.

I turned and faced her and noticed that she just stared at the front of my thong where my cock was. She pulled the top down a bit and tucked a dollar in far enough down that I felt her fingers brush the base of my cock.

Soon several other girls joined in to put money in my thong. These girls came prepared with money. Not only did they use one-dollar bills, but they used fives, tens, and twenties. After awhile, my thong could not hold any more money---I felt as though I were wearing a money belt. One lady waved a hundred-dollar bill at me, then she shoved it into her bra right on her nipple. After I got it out, another lady sprayed whipped-creme on her chest and wanted me to lick it off.

The birthday girl continued drinking, and she hugged me, caressed me, and spanked me more and more as the night went on. The other girls marveled at my Southern accent and asked if I was embellishing it. I assured them that was my usual manner of speaking.

After announcing group photos to conclude the party, the petite blonde approached me and hugged me. "Dion, you were my first stripper, and you're the best. I'm sorry how I reacted at first. I was a bit overwhelmed. But you made this the best birthday ever."