So…yesterday happened. It was one of those days that ended up nothing like you had planned. It started off mild enough. I woke up, milled around for a while. Ate lunch at my grannies next door. Nothing special. I rode around with my uncle while he ran errands and on the way back home he asked “Ey man you want to stop by the shake ya booty club or are you ready to go home?” I would always rather be at the strip club. And that is where this tale begins.
The Foxy Lady Lounge is my preferred club. Even that was normal enough. But then this fine stallion of a light skinned woman emerged from the back in a red, white, and blue bedazzled bikini. She had ass for days and a very nice rack. Molly was her name. I raised my hand like a child in school with all the answers. She came over, introduced herself, and asked if i’d like a dance. I gave her the $5 and we waited for the next song to come around. I always pay upfront because I don’t want any mess after a dance. There have been a few occasions where dancers have taken extra money from me because they claimed they danced an extra song or two. Paying up front eliminates all of that. If she keeps dancing, that is on her. But I digress. She began her dance. Her ass was wobbling and everything was all good. About half way through the song I leaned over to my uncle and said “Hey man, what’s up with her? Why she ain’t took her clothes off yet?” He looked at me and gave me the Kanye Shrug. At this point in the story I feel that it is important for the reader to know that the Foxy Lady Lounge is the kind of place where you can have a “really good time” with $50. Completely naked, ass poppin’, titties in your face, bend over bust it open, I’m so close I can smell it table dances are $5 and $15 can make all your dreams come true. Beyond that is the VIP which is only $20 so…yea. Back to the story. The song ends and nary a stitch of her beautifully bedazzled outfit had come off during. She thanked me, and sat behind my uncle and I. At this point I was totally confused so I went to the bar to get another drink. When I came back I met eyes with the young lady which prompted me to ask her “Hey, how much are the dances where you actually take your clothes off?” to which she replied “All the table dances are $5”. Her answer gave me more questions to ask but instead I just sat down. I looked over to my uncle again and said “Since when do the dancers keep their clothes on?” to which he replied “I don’t know. Maybe she likes you and that was just a freebie for you”. I said “No, I paid for that dance” which instantly made my uncle give me the “Why the fuck did you let her get away with that shit” look. He turned around to her and they exchanged a few words. Then my uncle got up, went over to the bartender who doubles as the house maid or whatever you call the woman that watches over the dancers on the floor and said something to her. Then the house maid motioned for Molly to come over to her, and she stomped right back to sit down behind us visibly angry after exchanging a few words with the house maid. About a minute later Molly slammed down five singles between my uncle and I cursing. The music was loud enough to where I could ignore her easily. I looked over to my uncle laughing and asked “So what did she say when you asked her about the dance?” to which he replied “Man I asked that broad why she didn’t take her clothes off and she said because she didn’t feel like it”.
A stripper that didn’t feel like taking off her clothes…I have officially seen and heard it all. True Story.
© Stephen R. Freshley and wordbending, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Stephen R. Freshley and Word Bending a secret but not so secret blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.