A picture is worth a thousand words

Or several hours of wasted time.

I've seriously had that picture open for two days now in my browser, and am loathe to close it. I keep clicking on it now and again and dose myself with ten seconds of the cuddly-fuzzies, before returning to ignoring my studying by browsing the web for inanity.

I just signed up for my classes for next semester, and I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I know that I need one more Italian class and one more Psychology class, but other than that I'm just kind of shooting in the general direction of counseling stuff. It's my last semester, so I'm having a hard time generating the juice to give a shit.

Other than that, life is actually really good. I made a LOT of money this weekend, and am finally out of my depressing slump of being so broke I could only afford to eat breaded things (PB&J, turkey sammich, grilled cheese).

Spent most of today sleeping and recovering from last night. It was my first time to work at S4 while the Halloween block party went on, and it was insane. Tons of people in costume, completely trashed, trying to pull my shorts off, grab my cock, etc, etc. I had to be on guard all night, and ended up smacking hands left and right, one of which belonged to an old acquaintance who was VERY drunk. Fucker should have known better.

This post has time traveled, because I left it open and went to work last night, so for a continuation on my work report...

Sunday night was slow, slow as molasses driving down a south dallas back road with an illegal immigrant at the wheel. The first two hours saw maybe five fresh faces in the back bar where I dance, and when people asked me how my night was going, I couldn't even get up the energy to put on my mask and lie. I just said "Shitty," and gestured to the empty bar. That actually scored me some pity tips.

Sundays are always slow at the club until about 12:30, and because it's 18 and up hip hop night nobody comes into the back. However, luck favored my plight, and one of the other dancers came in to hang out, stuffing dollars in my shorts and pushing his ex-boyfriend on me. He was cute, so I let him believe I was going to call him, and as a reward for my ruse one of his entourage popped their "tipping a stripper" cherry by giving me a $20.

For anyone who knows female strippers or has read or watched anything about female strippers, you're probably thinking, "Ooh, a twenty, way to make the big bucks Magoo," but what most people don't know is that male dancers, just like male pornstars, make shit compared to females in the industry. We're limited by a number of factors, including not being able to show what everyone who comes to see us really wants to see, and specific to my job (gogo dancing) not being able to sit with groups, do lapdances, etc. People aren't even legally allowed to touch me, though like any other dancer, I'll make an exception if they aren't repulsive and they don't try to rub their grimy hands all over my cock... and the money is forthcoming.

Back to the twenty. After the shy little boy with the taupe vest tipped me a twenty, my whole night took on a tinge of gold. I started dancing, smiled more, felt better in general. And it reflected on my wages, because people started coming to pay attention to me. There's two things that improve my mood at work, money and being paid attention to. Any person who dances erotically has to foster at least the smallest embryo of exhibitionist inside them, and feed that embryo with a healthy dose of narcissism if they really want to own the stage, so for me being paid attention to is like saying Beetlejuice's name three times. I'll gyrate and gesticulate with more dramatic poses and moves, be more engaging with customers, and make more money as a result.

In that last hour of work I went from 3 dollars to 57, at final count, which for a Sunday night is a pretty good take, when put on top of the 75 I get paid to show up. More than I'd make at Starbucks, at least.

No benefits, though, unless you count phone numbers and multiple drunken attempts at handjobs "benefits."

-Sean