Labor Day Weekend 2015

Labor Day Weekend

 The past four weeks, especially the Labor Day weekend, brought in a gold rush of bachelorette parties for me. This past weekend alone netted eight parties, two of which I had to turn down. All of this action left me little time to update the blog. 

So without further ado, here are some highlights of recent shows:

Extra Tip Money

The bride at my last party was very reserved and asked me to interact with her friends instead. She relaxed after a while once she realized I wasn't going to disrespect her boundaries.

I stayed and talked with the girls. One of them thought I was so nice to them that she actually started crying. I cannot remember what I had said that she found touching.

Nonetheless, she packed me some food to go, and when I got home and counted the tip money, I realized that someone had thrown in an extra $75 without my knowledge. I smiled at that extra kind gesture (and I must remember to send them another message of gratitude).

Party of Three

Three ladies, around thirty years of age, got together to celebrate a bachelorette party. One of them, a very beautiful blonde, took pics of the whole thing and sent them to her husband.

His response to his wife, "Have fun and go make some bad decisions."

He also told her to get my number so I could strip for her and her friends again.

They seemed like a happy and interesting couple.

The Bachelorette Party + One Guy

Before I arrived, the customers asked if I was okay about a gay guy attending the bachelorette party. I told them it didn't matter. The truth is that young straight guys are more likely to cause problems and pick fights in this situation.

Well, the guy here turned out to be quite a boon for my performance. He encouraged the girls to "get slutty" with me, and shamed them when they shied away or refused to participate. He was also the person who provided all the tip money for me.


Snooty

Sometimes all it takes is one girl to ruin an otherwise great party. 

The other women, especially the bride, her mother, sister, and aunt, seemed to enjoy my show. I made my rounds with them, and received good-natured cheers and laughs in return.

Then came Snooty’s turn.

She was an attractive girl other than the fact that her facial features continuously scrunched together to form a snooty and snobbish look (thus her nickname). When the other girls pointed her out to me, I instantly knew that she was going to be difficult. She leaned away and regarded me with obvious disdain. The peer pressure of her friends was the only thing that detained her on the couch. Upon my approach, someone handed her a wad of ones, which she took, but refused to tip me.

“Go somewhere else,” she said, then pointed to an empty corner. “Go dance for that person in the corner.” 

At first I thought she was teasing me. There was no person in the corner. The scathing expression on her face said otherwise. I decided from that point to ignore her for the duration of the party. Calling her out in front of everyone would make me look like the instigator and vindicate her abrasive behavior.

While I circulated the room, Snooty continued lobbing snarky comments at me. I couldn’t hear what exactly she was saying because the music was too loud. Judging by her tone, however, I knew it wasn’t anything nice. I pretended that I didn’t hear anything and focused on another game with the bride. Even then, Snooty's demeanor poisoned the atmosphere of the party. A few of the other girls shifted uncomfortably in their seats at her comments.

For the finale, I licked cake icing off the bride’s sister and aunt (per the bride’s request). After that, the aunt handed me another wad of dollar bills and said, “Keep it! You’ve done an awesome job.”

I politely refused, but she insisted. After all, I did cut the party much shorter than normal because of Snooty.

I went to the bathroom to change into a different outfit since I had another show afterwards. There was a few dollar bills scattered on the floor, loose ones that fell out of my thong. I left them with the intention of picking them up after changing, if someone hadn't already done it for me by then.

While I was changing, I heard two women talking outside the door. The voices were muffled, yet it sounded like one was scolding the other. When I finished, I opened the door and saw the aunt and Snooty waiting outside. Snooty was holding the stack of one-dollar bills, appearing very reluctant and awkward.

“You left some of your money on the floor,” the aunt said, shooting Snooty a fierce look. “Go on, give it to him.”

“I feel weird doing this,” Snooty said. She appeared on the verge of handing them money to me, but changed her mind and thrust them into the aunt's hands instead. Then she rushed past me into the bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind her.

The aunt rolled her eyes in disgust.

I nodded in understanding and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, again.”

As I walked out of the condo, there was one lingering thought on my mind: I felt sorry for poor sap who would marry Snooty.