My life story(ies)

I decided to add a page in which I’d talk about some of the most exciting things which happened in my personal life.  Specific locations (city, state) won’t be mentioned, and names of people will be changed.

—————————————————-

1) Krystal the stripper

(she is the only person here which regarding anonymity is actually double protected- her stripper name isn’t her real name, and I’m not even going to use her real stripper name).

Date: 2014 (about a year ago of me writing this).

You probably know where this story begins, given the title.  Yes, I met her in a strip club.  I’d give Krystal at least a 9 on the hotness scale, although since she’s a professional stripper that probably isn’t much of a surprise.  She approached me and asked me permission to sit on my lap.  Of course, I let her.  She got to talking to me.  I don’t remember the specifics of the conversation, but it must have not been a big deal since it obviously wasn’t memorable.  Probably boring small talk such as where I’m from or whatever.  She asked me if I’d like a $20 lap dance.  I knew that question was coming anyway, but I didn’t care.  I had (birthday) money to burn and wanted a good time- that’s why I was in the club, to begin with, and she knew it.

The lap dance was great, so I ended up asking for seconds.  Then I was ready to leave, but she continued talking to me, long after the dance was over.  Suddenly she requested to trade numbers with me.  At this point, I still didn’t think anything of it.  Why?  She just made $40 bucks from me in less than half an hour, so apparently, she saw me as a potential repeat customer.  But nonetheless, whatever.  Of course, I wasn’t going to refuse a number swap with a woman as beautiful as her, even if there’s a 99% chance she just wanted more of my money.  Besides, I was 22 and a virgin.  Even if she just flat-out made an offer like 500 bucks for one round of sex or whatever, at this point, I probably would’ve taken it.

Now here’s where things got interesting.

We started talking on the phone, and she told me about her personal problems.  She was apparently extremely insecure with the fact that she was a stripper.  She repeatedly asked me if it bothered me, which of course I always said no.- not just no to make her happy, but I’m a genuinely non-judgmental person.  (Why people hate strippers is beyond me anyway.  It’s a paid service, just like any other).  We would often talk about her insecurities.  She apparently leads quite the ‘wild’ lifestyle and would sleep in much of the day and stay up and night, even on her days off work.  Some pretty fucked up stuff happened during much of those days.  Sometimes the customers were just assholes.  She said once she’d been robbed while she was walking on the street one night and another time she’d been sexually assaulted and nearly raped, and on both these separate occasions, the police didn’t do a damn thing.  Sometimes I would call her, and she wouldn’t answer, but when she finally did, she said the reason she didn’t respond earlier was that either she couldn’t talk because she was literally crying, or only feeling too depressed.

By this point, I still wasn’t 100% convinced she was genuine.  I mean this could just be a routine she pulls on 100 guys a week to get them to feel sorry for her and get their money, right?  But the longer this went on with her, the more it became apparent that she was genuine.  First, she realized that I lived over 200 miles away from where she did, and the only reason I was there the one night we met was that it was a special occasion.  Secondly, she realized I was an unemployed college student/starving writer and that me having that much money to blow was also a special occasion. But she continued to talk to me.

Then one day she sent a picture of herself.  This was about as far away from a “sexy” picture as you can get, which is interesting considering she was a stripper.  She was completely wearing clothes, nothing revealing.  She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all, and her hair was done in a very bland way that wouldn’t get any guys attention.  Whereas she looked like a 9 in the club, here she looked like maybe a 6, if even that.  Of course, this doesn’t bother me.  No one, male or female looks as good in completely dull attire as when they dress up.  Besides- with me being 22 and a virgin, you think I’d lose interest just because she apparently wasn’t so beautiful when not dressed up?  Good one.

After talking for a few more months, I finally decide to make the 200+ mile trip to actually meet her again- but not in the club, but a restaurant.  She agrees.  And there I was, wearing the best possible clothes that I had (an abnormally expensive sweater with the most expensive pair of jeans I owned at the time), and she was wearing an Avril Lavigne punk styled skirt and a Paramore T-shirt which she said she’d gotten from Hot Topic.  She looked just as attractive now as in the club, although I could tell she was the same person as in the ‘plain’ picture of herself.  One of the first things she admitted to me is that she was wearing a wig.  That meant she was probably bald, though I didn’t ask.  It might have bothered some men, but not me.  So we sat and talked.  I was very nervous and insecure due to my lack of sexual experiences, and she seemed to be ashamed of herself for the opposite reason (although she was much more comfortable and confident around me than I was to her).

Over the phone, I was much less intimidated than I was seeing her in person again.  Probably because even though I knew how she looked, not being directly reminded of it helped considerably, allowing my conversational IQ to reach its full potential rather than being an awe-struck nerd.  I couldn’t believe I was actually on a date with such a beautiful woman.  All our conversations on the phone became irrelevant to me.  So suddenly out of nowhere, I asked her “Are you bored?”  She laughed it off.  “No, if I were bored I would have just left.”  And given she probably has guys approach her on a near constant basis, that was almost certainly true.  And we were actually engaged in conversation the whole time, we hadn’t even remotely reached a point where we ran out of interesting stuff to talk about, even in spite of my awkwardness and insecurities.

She thought some of my story/writing ideas were interesting.  Some of my jokes (which would later be incorporated into Pax Romana City of Angels) she thought were funny.  The joke with the best/most memorable reaction:  “I’m not trying to brag, but my dick is kind of like medical school.  It’s really long and really hard” (this was also the only sexual joke I made, which perhaps says something considering she seemed to enjoy that one the most).

In spite of being a nerd, at least I liked a bunch of rock bands, which gave us all the more to talk about.  My musical knowledge seemed to impress her because I could even tell her some about the personal lives of the bands she liked but didn’t pay attention to. I also introduced her to new music based on what she already liked.  I distinctly remember Avenged Sevenfold being her favorite band.  One of the few ‘social’ things I actually do is attend concerts, so I at least had some stories to tell from that.  My Nardwuar-like knowledge of music finally paid off. Sort of.

So by now, it’s 100% obvious that she didn’t want my money.  Here we are, meeting in person and she knows I rented a hotel room.  She never once tried to strike a deal with me involving me paying her.  Instead, the date finally ended because she got a phone call, and said it was an emergency of sorts.  Fair enough.

(If you only pay close attention to one part of this story, let it be this ending because it’s probably the most crucial part)

So as the date ended, she sort of leaned in, presumably to kiss me.  But like a stupid baby, I didn’t have the balls.  Why?  Who the hells knows.  She leaned in, and she’s a girl.  The guy is supposed to initiate it, but she did.  And I wouldn’t even fucking comply!  After that, she didn’t return my calls anymore, and that was my last contact with her.  The end.  : (

———————————————–

This ended up doing me far more good in the long run than the short term.  I’m not a man of much self-esteem and for any woman to like me (especially one of her caliber) made me much more confident than I was before.  Another thing I learned was I’d been so conservative with this whole dating/flirting thing throughout my life that I ended up achieving the opposite of what I wanted.  As one example, why did I not kiss her?  Because I was afraid there was a small chance I’d end up offending her.  Ironically offend her is exactly what I did.  Ignoring someone (or that they interpret you’re ignoring them) can come across just as rude as harassing them, and understanding, if you’re doing either, is important.

What (possibly) attracted her to me first is I stood out as not being one of the assholes that outright touch them without their permission and call them ‘sugar tits’ or whatever.  The problem is at *some* point when it’s actually appropriate she expects you to kiss her, or compliment her, hold her hand, etc. , not doing so when she expects it can be just as offensive as doing any of those things when she doesn’t.  I was stupid and innocent enough to think “don’t do anything that could possibly make her uncomfortable” and I took that so far I ended up making her uncomfortable.  I had 50% of it down, which is probably the 50% that most guys probably don’t have down (especially the type of guys which would go to a strip club of all place, to begin with).  Don’t harass.  Women in the sex industry are often treated like shit.  Tons of the guys going into these clubs apparently do have a borderline Jack the Ripper mentality.  They make me sick.  She realized that, at the very least, I wasn’t going to physically hurt her, which actually did happen to her in the past, multiple times.  But you also don’t want to be the stuck up prick who thinks she isn’t worth kissing. I figured I was a cautious gentleman, and she thought I was an arrogant asshole which wasted her time for no reason.  I “friend zoned” her, without intending to.

Edit:  I’d like to expand on this.  Another thing this taught me was not to judge a book/people by their cover.  At first, the only thing I knew was that she was a beautiful girl getting paid 20 bucks for a 5-minute lap dance, plus tips.  Most people would look at that at face value, and say “what a slut with no morals.  I wish I were a young, beautiful girl.”

But the more I got to know her, the more I realized those judgments are entirely unfair.  First, the club gets a large cut of what they make.  Second, many of the ‘customers’ in the club treat them like absolute shit.  I have no ‘game’ or PUA mastery, or whatever you want to call it, whatsoever.  All I had to do is not treat her like dirt to stand out from the crowd.  Let that speak for it.  And third, was her dad.  Her own father did not give a damn about her.  Most parents would be heartbroken to find out his daughter is a stripper and would do anything in their power to stop it so she wouldn’t have to.  Her father not only didn’t give her a dime to help her survive, but her father asked her for money!  She gave a good portion of her income to her father.  What a tool.  I was living at home (whereas I’m pretty sure her parents kicked her out), plus my parents paid for me to go to college.  It would be insane for me to call her a spoiled brat just because she strips for ‘easy money.’

Advertisements

One thought on “My life story(ies)

  1. This is tragic for both sides. Maybe it’s just me being biased because I’m a female, but women think way too hard about a man’s actions. If I were Krystal, I would have probably felt “friend zoned.” Especially after I’d opened up so much to you. A kiss on the cheek won’t hurt anybody. I think people forget this.

    Maybe you’re thinking too hard about it too. Maybe she dropped her cellphone in the lake and lost contact that way? The glass is half full.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s