It's been a quiet week over at Concepts; Tuesdays are their $10 dance nights (I try not to think too hard about this; as they take 20%, that means we are actually doing dances for $8--sigh) and have been busy, but not last night. I did hear some horrifying details about some poor dancer's cervix in the dressing room; she said she felt an abnormality, upon which a couple of the other girls freaked out and said, "You can feel your cervix?" I was shocked--I didn't know anyone couldn't. I still suspect they're not doing it right. You know, you stick your finger in there, and you feel it. Due to the form of birth control I use, the NuvaRing, I'm quite familiar with mine, thanks. Anyhow, she said she'd been experiencing weird periods for a while, so I asked, "What did your doctor say?"
"I haven't been. I'm going to go to Planned Parenthood but they need to see a paystub for you to get the sliding scale fee." Ack! The slightest female trouble and I run to the doctor. Procrastinating on this sort of thing is just never ever good. I don't know what their flat rate is these days, but I think the most I ever paid at a PP (I never used the sliding scale, just their normal rates) was $90. I hope this girl gets in there soon.

Last Wednesday there was a customer who was very generous with myself and another dancer--he probably gave each of us about $400 in dances and tips, bought us "cocktails" ($8 sodas that we get $2 off of) all night, and was, to boot, fun company. Last night he was in again, and when I went over to say hi, he gave me a torrent of compliments for the fun he had last week. But, he said, he'd be busy tonight, because he thought he'd made a connection with another dancer. Oh boy. I kind of know how this will turn out, don't you?