This story is told from a perspective of a young guy who recently turned eighteen. This has been made purely for satire purpose and syntax, tone, and storytelling elements are used the way they are for that exact purpose. Basically, this is the story an eighteen-year-old me would tell people, with some elements being true and some being fully exaggerated. Feedback (of any kind) is greatly appreciated.
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What the hell am I doing here?
Why did I come here, this is not a place for me!
How did I ever convince myself to come here?
The night was almost over and my shift was coming to a close. It's strange to remember that two months ago I had to plead with my parents for some spare cash for food and other junk. It's even harder to imagine that as of four days ago I was allowed to buy cigarettes and lotto, not to mention going to the place that had me tantalized for years. I'm sure I'm not the only kid.....excuse me, young adult, that wanted to go to a strip club.
The appeal has certainly gone down due to "the almighty" internet being available, providing porn by the barrelful, and the "No touch" policy that I so heard about. The only other factor was money, but that hasn't been a problem since I got a job as a delivery boy for a decent size restaurant.
This gig has fallen out of nowhere, and I picked it up, although with some difficulty, fairly quickly and the money started pouring. Looking back now, making minimum wage didn't seem so bad when I was working in my step-fathers office, but this was just amazing compared to sitting in an office nine to five making telemarketing calls trying to sell junk to people.
Eighteen bucks an hour, my own schedule, driving around blasting Metallica wile all I had to do was delivery food to anyone crazy enough to want a pizza at two in the morning. Great gig like I said, and with a few fine tunings I had it under my belt. The stories that I got from that job are going to last me for a lifetime, but that's for another day.
I had the thought for a while, but this was the night to make my long-time dream realized. The strange part is that I've been in a strip club before. Sometimes the girls or the manager himself order from my restaurant and because they are located across the street from us, it makes for an easy "run". Run being a sequence of deliveries that the driver makes and in which order.
Yes I've been inside many times, even before I turned eighteen and once I decided to stick around after I made my drop. This however wasn't a good experience, as I learned that forty bucks doesn't go a long way in a strip club. I'm not going to count that as my first strip club experience as there was really nothing to experience; I came in sat down for few minutes and the money I made that night I saved for a new set of strings rather than tipping the girls (which I didn't know you were required to do if you sat at the pool). Needless to say I wanted a real strip club experience. The same situation happened with my first run in with sex, but that will be another story.
I had about two hundred bucks on top of twenty in singles which I so meticulously aligned in "tip" portion of my wallet. I had my valid license and most importantly I had my leather jacket, skinny jeans and old pair of vans.
I couldn't look anymore like I kid as I did at that moment, to top it off I had a buttoned up collar shirt with the neck very loosely unbuttoned going for that straight out douchebag look. I thought that I looked mature and I thought I would fit in fine among the adult atmosphere, plus the leather jacket gave me strange boost of confidence.
I finished my report, clocked out at two in the morning, and I was ready to head out. The stench of "axe" and breath mints lingered in my nose. Tired but exited I drove towards "the Body Shop" to finally feel for myself what a strip club really was.
I heard stories about this place. One of the drivers mentioned his experience. He got a dance with a tall man-ish Russian girl who had a "signature" move of what I could make out as pile driving your face into her ass.
Erotic to some but seemed a bit too rough for me, at least for now. I broke my nose a few times and though that would be a fun story to tell, I would have to pass.
I didn't help that I was passing by this place almost every other day on my runs. Still living with my parents, my new job gave me another bonus, as now I had an alibi as to where I was at four in the morning. Not many people have that excuse, but I tend to overthink those kinds of details.
I had it all planed and this was the night to see my plans turn into actions.
It was a Friday night so many drunks were hanging around the entrance, no doubt guys who struck out and in their inebriated state wanted "to see some tittles!" I don't judge, I had many experiences striking out with pretty much every girl in the club. Hell, the club is not where I belong, but being drunk and horny sure does help. But again, that is another story.
I bravely storm the entrance and the bouncer asks for my id. I proudly present it and smile when he begins to compare the pictures. Seems like a very dorky move looking back, buy I probably not going to see him ever again so it didn't matter.
He smirks to himself and directs me to the cashier. Yes! Step one: complete!
The woman behind the register takes the same weird look and asks me for ten for entry. I give her a twenty and ask for some singles. She gives me a great stack of old singles bound by one paperclip.
The second bouncer pulls the curtain and lets me. I step into the dim lit room and I'm ready to experience the dream.
The room was packed, there were people filling almost every corner of the club. The music was blasting some generic bass beat and the lighting made it hard to navigate but I wasn't there for those reasons. Going to a strip club for the DJ is like going to McDonalds for a salad.
Both stages had girls, topless and just like the ads described them. And I quote "time to see some titties!" Yes, I truly had no class or etiquette dealing with naked women.
I take a seat at the poolside of the first stage prepare my singles. The girl on the stage was in the middle of her routine as only half of her outfit was gone. Considering that their outfits consists of the heels that never come off and two other articles of clothing.
She was rather tall, or not, I couldn't tell at the time between real height and six inch heels. Come to think of it, why do I care how tall she is?
Her body was lean and agile as she slid up and down that pole with ease, but again I could just be naïve in my first firsthand look at a real stripper. Again, why do I care, she's naked!
Not enough breasts. A cup, for a title like "Body Shop" seemed kind of obscure. Awh, I wanna see big titties! I don't have to think too mature about that, plus I doubt I can make an intelligent argument to get a girl with a bigger bust.
As I was making my mental marks her g string came down to her knees. Forget I said anything about boobs!
My eyes widened and at an instant smile arouse even though I tried to hide it. Pussy was shaved clean, and her lips were enticing me as I haven't seen enough of the female anatomy up-close, and the internet is no substitution.
She spread her legs and I got an even better look. I was getting exited already, it wasn't that hard to excite me, but it seemed rather too quick. I tried to calm down and look smooth and not as some horny teenager after that point (even though I was just that).
It seemed very short lived, but I ran out of singles as few other equally gorgeous girls came and went. I had to get up and leave the poolside and seek a place to observe the girls else were.
This was around the same time the severity of the situation started to settle in. There really isn't much to do after the money is gone, a lot like in real life.
With no more singles and no spot in the pool, the sight of naked girls has begun to be distracted and then despoiled by ugly drunk guys, the scary bouncers, and the terrible club beat music.
I was desperately looking around for a girl to take for a private dance, but it in that odd instance, there were no girls coming to harass me for a private dance.
I sat at the table with the chair turned away to face the stage and the situation has fully sunk in. On the outside I tried to have control and appear cool and confident, but inside I started to feel that this is not a place for me either. And that's when the thoughts settled in.
What the hell am I doing here?
