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Filtering by Tag: Fat Stacks

IF THIS STRIPPER WON THE POWERBALL

Jacq

I've never been a lottery-ticket buyer. I feel like it's humiliating... paying a dollar to a mystery organization for letting me think I might be lucky. I'm already lucky for having a mother who could afford (and insisted I get) braces, for having relatively symmetrical tits, and for being so goddamn FUNNY (it really is a gift). 

I DO however, fantasize about being rich. You know, like selling a billion copies of The Beaver Show (have you bought it yet?) or whatever.

But, because I'm a dummy for love... I bought a Powerball ticket for my wife. Ok fine I'm a hopeless fucker just like the rest of you who dreams of wealth and power it's true it's true

HERE IS WHAT I WOULD DO IF I WON THE POWER BALL:

I would buy every strip club where I've ever worked. 

I would fire all the shitty managers (read: most of them). 

I would hire women to staff the entire venue. 

Patrons of all genders will be welcome to come and worship the ladies, and as House Fucking Madam I will no longer take 50% of the dancer's earnings (that's what pimps do and all pimps need to either die or suck the dick all by their damn selves), but a normal fucking FIFTEEN PERCENT like a regular fucking agent.

Then I will go on to buy every single strip club in America.

Then Canada...

And then the rest of the world.

If it's women you want to see in the strip club, then it's women you're going to see running the whole goddamn joint. 

I'll be so fucking rich that I'll buy myself out of every lawsuit that claims I've fired someone for his gender (damn straight I'm going to fire every last dick-wielding dude in the business.) They will get severance pay or whatever because I'm spiteful, yeah, but I'm not evil. 

The men I fire will be awarded full scholarships to college where they may only study gender studies. 

THINGS THAT WILL HAPPEN IN MY FEMINIST STRIPPER UTOPIA:

 

1. CHRIS BROWN'S MUSIC WILL NEVER BE PLAYED EVER AGAIN. MARGARET CHO AND PEACHES WILL BE THE RESIDENT DJ's. 

2. ''GOWNS' WILL BE ERADICATED FROM THE STRIPPER DRESS CODE

3. WEDNESDAYS WILL BE DAISY DUKE NIGHT 

I fuckin' love Daisy Dukes they are so dang hot 

I fuckin' love Daisy Dukes they are so dang hot 

4. IN ADDITION TO PAYING A COVER CHARGE, ALL MALE CLIENTS MUST PROVIDE CONTACT INFORMATION FOR THEIR MOTHER, WIFE, SISTER OR DAUGHTER UPON ENTRY. IF THEY MISTREAT OR ABUSE THE PRIVILEGE OF BASKING IN THE BEAUTY OF THE DANCERS, MANAGEMENT WILL CALL THE AFOREMENTIONED PERSON TO ALERT THEM OF HIS BEHAVIOR. 

5. THE DRESSING ROOM WILL HAVE LEGIT SNACKS THAT AREN'T STALE PRETZELS (I'm talking cheetos, sliced canteloupe, soprasetta and nutella...) 

6. ONE DOLLAR BILLS WILL BE BANNED.

7. ZERO CALORIE CHAMPAGNE WILL FLOW FROM A CRYSTAL FOUNTAIN (I poached Nigella Lawson and the finest from NASA to invent that shit) 

8. PATRONS WILL BE LIGHTLY SLAPPED ON THE NOSE WITH A ROLLED-UP NEWSPAPER FOR NOT SAYING 'THANK YOU' AFTER AN ENTERTAINER HAS SO GRACIOUSLY DANCED FOR HIM. 

9. MY HAIR WON'T GET STUCK IN MY LIP GLOSS (again, when you have money you can hire whomever to invent whatever the fuck you want.) 

10. THERE WILL BE A VIP PIZZA PARTY ROOM WHERE THE GIRLS WEAR JAMMIES AND THE GUY GETS TO LEARN HOW TO FRENCH BRAID (all for only $10,000/hr) 

(Man learning to French-braid not pictured) 

(Man learning to French-braid not pictured) 

So - since I'm not going to win the lottery maybe just tell all your friends to buy my book so we can really truly bring my feminist stripper utopia to life, yeah?

 

 

 

 

STRIPPER KNOWS BEST

Jacq

Hi, Jacq 
I have a question that I'm telling myself only a stripper can answer.
About a month ago I stopped into the club on the way home from the airport. It was slow (Tuesday), some of the girls weren't getting tipped at all on the main stage, so eventually I took a couple dancers into the VIP room. The next day I was mentally going through my expenditures from the night before and realized I hadn't tipped the girls for their time in the VIP room. In my mind, I messed up and want to make it right.
I'm not sure how to deal with it if I run into these girls again. Normally, if I feel I under-tipped a "regular" service provider (bartender, waitress, etc.), I acknowledge it the next time I see them and add a little extra to that subsequent tip. I understand everyone's different, but how would a dancer, in general, feel about me simply acknowledging my mistake, buying her a drink, and slipping her $40 - $50 for the previous visit?
Thanks in advance for your advice,
Making it Right 

Dear Making it Right,

Thanks for your email (that you sent me over a month ago). I'm really happy you've found some respite between the tits of some of your hometown's finest rippers. 

Let me begin by saying it it is never too late to tip just like it's never too late to respond to an email. NEVER. Not ever ever ever is it too late to apologize, or to say thank you, (or a unique combination of the two, much like the pickle you're in now). If there is one thing a stripper never forgets it's who failed to palm her a dozen crisp twenties at the end of a fun evening. 

It sounds like you like this place, and that you'd like to continue frequenting it. So, next time you go there, hand each dancer twenty percent of whatever the club charged for the time you spent together. NOT twenty percent of what she earned, but twenty percent of what the house charged. 

Let me explain: When you're going to a restaurant, you tip based on the bill, not how much your server earned per hour while refilling your water glasses and trying to up-sell you on premium Alizé and artisanal condiments. 

I was in a VIP room with a fellow dancer and a guy who got weird (read: whipped out his dick and began reciting poetry with is pants pooling around his ankles), and, after I politely declined to fellate him, kicked me out of the room. The other girl stayed and happily obliged him. It's cool, I get dumped for not putting out at least once a night. But the following week, the same man RAN AFTER ME. Mortified that I'd have to go through that awkwardness again, I hid in the bathroom. I finally resurfaced, and THERE HE WAS, WAGGING HIS TAIL EXPECTANTLY. FUCK. But instead of pleading with me to go back to the VIP again, or telling me that he was disappointed that I didn't want to touch his peen, he taps me on the shoulder, hands me $300, and says, "Sorry you left last time before I could tip you." 

And as freaky as this guy was, and as badly as he wanted that beej that I wasn't going to give him, he still chased me around the club to tip me. A whole week later!  Although I never want to see him again, in my books, this guy is dope. 

So, Make-it-Right, the moment you see your old friends, tip them. With interest ;)

I'm really glad you asked about this. You keep the faith in good customers. I've never danced for you, and I am appreciating the shit out of you all the way from New York!