Lord, there is this one customer who gets far, far too excited who I saw on Monday . . . it was really dead or else I probably wouldn't have danced for him. He simply can't keep his hands off of himself, and constantly grabs his crotch and massages his dick through his pants whilst bucking in the chair . . . I just wasn't in the mood for it this week. It was a dead day overall, though I ended up making decent money, but it was an irritating day. Girls were bitchy, clientele was weird, everyone was just a pain in the ass. Except for Carissa; she's cool.

I've tried to encourage one of my internet stripper friends to check out the club in Indiana, but she's carless, which makes it hard to be a dancer when you're in Cincy and the closest club is 30 miles away. She's only danced once before and had a million questions about how to get hired, which is really funny once you know how it actually works.

"Hi, I'm interested in working here."

"When would you like to start?"

That's pretty much it. You'll get a speech about each club's particular rules and practices if you're lucky or if it's a particularly strict club. At that club, they do have to explain things to you because it's run a little differently, but the management is pretty straightforward with you (hi, Phil). The longest speech I've gotten recently was in February when I went to Pure Platinum for the first time. The shortest one was back in December at the Living Room, where my ID wasn't even checked at the door.

Today is hooky day; I'm taking my one absence for the summer session at exactly the halfway point, partly because I am no longer concerned that I might fail Spanish (and partly to work on other, non-school or stripping work). I did much better than I expected on the first exam, and it looks like I might actually finish school a mere two and a half weeks from now . . . I might just order up some announcements.