$1,500 Gig (continued)

Continued from $1,500 Gig

Thursday, May 23, 2013


Time

01:22 pm:  I attempt to contact the husband, but he doesn't answer. He mentioned that he cannot answer the phone if his wife is around. I notify my agent about this in case the customer flakes out (which would suck).  Usually, I don't leave until I confirm with the customer, but due to the nature of the money involved, I'm going to risk it.

It will take about two hours to reach the hotel where the husband and wife is staying. He wanted me there around 3:30 p.m. I try and bring my Kindle for updates during the down times.

Leaving now.

02:34 pm: On the way to the hotel, the husband calls me from a different number. His phone isn't working. He says he will meet me in the hotel lobby at 3:30. He tells me to tell her that I work in I.T. or a similar position, because his wife likes nerdy guys.

03:35 pm: I arrive in the lobby. It's a huge resort hotel. As promised, the husband meets me in the lobby. Holy shit, this guy is jacked---quite the opposite appearance of my presumption of him. He pays me $500. His wife is waiting at the pool. He suggests I get changed then go out to the pool. He hands me room card to access the premises.

3:55 pm: I go outside and sit at a table away from the pool. I see the husband sitting on a lawn chair next to his wife. From my vantage point, she looks as beautiful as he claims. She's a tanned hot blonde wearing a purple bikini. I feel a bit relieved that he wasn't lying about having a wife.

 04:05 pm: I walk around pretending to look at the scenery. I take a few pictures with my camera phone, some of scenery and some of the wife. I'm actually nervous at this point because I have to go up and flirt with this complete stranger and get her to like me. Under normal circumstances, rejection isn't a big deal, but this whole gig depended on success. 

 4:06 pm: The husband stands up about to leave, then looks over at me and gives a subtle nod without his wife noticing. He then leaves. I gather my things and approach the pool.

4:07 pm: I walk around the pool under the false pretense of searching for a lawn chair to sunbathe on. Coincidentally, I find an empty one next to the wife. She is very tan, blonde, and in good shape with visible abs. I ask her if anyone is using the chair.

"My husband is using it," she says. "He went somewhere and will be back soon."

"Okay, I'll use the one next to it... By the way," I say as I put my belongings down, "What kind of work outs do you do? You have a great body and look like you take of yourself well."

"Why thank you!" the wife beams, placing both hands on her chest. "That really means a lot to me that you say that!"

4:12 pm: The wife continues conversing with me. I formerly introduce myself and tell her that my name is "Brad." She tells me her name and we shake hands. I'm now sitting in her husband's chair next to her. She takes her sunglasses off, revealing bright blue eyes, and occasionally brushes her fingers through her hair. 

4:15 pm: The wife sits up as she talks to me, showing interest in what I have to say. I discover that she used to be a lawyer, works as a personal trainer, and has two kids. She asks what I was doing in town. I tell her that I'm a consulting traveling on business, then change the subject. She buys my story.

4:30 pm: The husband reappears, but hovers out of the wife's sight at the bar. I see him stare at us while we're talking and try to avoid looking in his direction too much to alert suspicion. This whole situation feels like James Bond movie.

4:33 pm: The husband raises his hand and gestures that I should wrap up my conversation and meet him around the back of the pool.

4:35 pm:  Per her husband's request, I tell her that she is both beautiful and intelligent, and that "it was a pleasure" talking with her. 

"Maybe I'll see you out tonight," she says.

4:37 pm: I meet the husband behind the pool near the stairwell out of earshot from his wife.

"You did good," he says. "You did good... But mind if I'm a straight-shooter with you?"

"Go ahead," I say.

"You are not the guy in the picture on the website," he says, looking livid. "I ordered a guy who was blond hair, blue eyes, and over 6'2. That's my wife's fantasy type of guy. You don't have blue eyes and you're the same height as me."

His sudden anger surprises me. Why didn't he say something when we first met in the lobby? I ask which agency he booked from, and he tells me a name that I'm unfamiliar with.

It was an easy puzzle to piece together. The company the husband used didn't have a male stripper in this area, so the agent for that company called my agent and asked him to provide a dancer for them. So my agent called me, and I agreed, unaware that this was a third-party show. In a way, the first agency outsourced this job to my agent and me, and lied to the husband just to collect his money. I'm pretty sure that most of the pictures of male strippers on their website are fake, and that they promise the customer everything and anything just to get money. Quite shitty on that agency's part.

I briefly explain the situation to the husband and vow to call my agent and let him know what's going on.

"Hey, it's nothing against you, man," he says. "I know you're trying your best."

04:38 pm: I'm still dressed for the swimming pool, but holding my khakis and polo shirt. The husband stares at my clothes with disapproval. He tells me that his wife likes a "certain style" of dress. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a wad of cash, and hands me a hundred dollar bill.

"Go to Express, and buy the Rocco slim fit jeans, boot cut. They're on sale. I know that because I was in there today. Also get an athletic fit button-down shirt. That hundred should cover it for you. Trust me, I know what women like. Buy those clothes. My wife will love them."

I thank him. My choice in clothes will have little effect on the outcome with his wife, but if he wants to buy me new clothes, then I won't argue. Express is an expensive store too.

The husband tells me to meet him and his wife at a nearby club around 8 o'clock after I'm done shopping. Three hours is plenty of time.

4:40 pm: I leave the hotel to go shopping. Express is located at a shopping plaza 10 minutes away.

5:10 pm: Thanks to the husband's patronage, I buy the pair of pants and a shirt at Express. The total was $95.38.

5:25 pm: I go to a nearby restaurant and eat because I haven't eaten much all day. Steak kabob, potatoes, broccoli, and carrots.

6:10 pm: I find a store with WiFi. I use my Kindle Fire HD to update this post a bit. I also call my agent and tell him of the husband's complaint. My agent confirms that this gig was outsourced by another stripping agency. He says he'll call that agent and ask him about it.

I tell my agent that the husband gave me a hundred dollars to buy some clothes that his wife would like. We both laugh.

"Call me after this gig is done," he says. "I want to hear how this ends. This is some strange shit."

My agent has worked as a male stripper for longer than I have, and has been booking shows for almost a decade. Surprising him is no small feat. The nature of this gig has him on the edge of his seat.


7:30 pm: I head back to the hotel. The club is a short walk away.

8:00 pm: I arrive at the hotel and change into my new clothes the bathroom next to the fitness center. I brought toiletries along to freshen up. I brush my teeth too.

8:15 pm: I make it to the club a little late. It's a live music bar with a great view of the harbor and the beach. The husband and his wife is sitting near the stage. The husband is scanning the bar looking for me. I step into view so he can see me. He nods and then goes back to drinking with his wife.

8:19 pm: The husband gets up and walks away from the table. I meet him in the hallway near the bathroom. He tells me to go ahead and sit with his wife. He pulls out a phone and dials a number and turns away from me.

8:20 pm: I stroll through the bar casually. By sheer luck and coincidence, I stumble upon the wife's table. She's surprised to see me. She offers me a seat. We talk again. She grasps and squeezes my hand or pats my arm as we talk.

8:25 pm: After talking, I flirt with her some before leaving the table so her husband can return.

8:32 pm: Some guy in his late 30s to early 40s stumbles near me and flashes a lecherous grin.

"I see that hot blonde girl with the big boobs shot you down too," he says. "When I commented on her nice boobs, she told me that she was with her husband."

"I was going to hang out with her again," I tell the creep. If this guy only knew that her husband paid me to flirt with her...

8:50 pm: The husband gets up to go to the hallway again, holding the phone as though he had an importance call. I go out to meet him.

"Hey man, I don't think this is going to work," he says. "She's not feeling it, and she's ready to go sleep soon. She likes you and all, but I don't think she wants to take it to the next level. Sorry man, you're just not what I asked for. You're not her fantasy guy. I wanted a blond guy with blue eyes."

"It's all right," I assure him. "There aren't many other male strippers in this area though... Maybe like one or two besides me, and I they're not over 6'2."

In reality, I don't think that there is a male stripper out there who will be able fulfill his large grocery list of requirements, which included the following: Blond male at least 6'2 in height, but not too tall, blue eyes, nerdy, muscular, no piercings, no tattoos, clean shaven, short haircut, well groomed, intelligent, preferably in the computer tech/I.T. profession, confident but not arrogant, etc., etc.

Seriously, this guy has more requirements for a male stripper than just about every female customer I ever had.

The husband thanks me sincerely for trying. "Are we fair at just five-hundred dollars?"

"More than fair," I assure him. "You also gave me money for clothes."

"And they look nice too!" he laughs.

9:00 pm: The husband returns to the table with his wife. I approach them and talk to the wife first. The wife "formally" introduces me to her husband, because in her mind, we haven't met yet. After talking for a short time, I tell them that I am about to leave. They give me a warm-hearted good-bye.

9:20 pm: I make it to my car.

9:30 pm: I call my agent and tell him what happened.

"Yeah, these guys and their fetishes," he says. "I've done a few gigs like this. They usually don't end well, because the girl is not in on it. Sounds like this is what happened. That guy didn't hire you for his wife's benefit. He hired you because he has some fetish of seeing his wife with a certain type of guy."

"I don't understand the fetish of having another guy hook up with your girl," I tell the agent, "But it's job security for us."

So in the end, I have $500 and a new pair of clothes.