Five Minute Stripper Stories


Can You Spare a Twenty?

I used to date a DJ that I worked with.  He had to wait for every dancer to pay him his DJ tip at the end of her shift so we were usually some of the last people to leave the building.  One particularly late night, we got into his truck as a man approached us.  He was pale, a little on the thin side, and looked like he had seen better days.  “Can you help me out with some money?  My car ran out of gas and I don’t have enough money to get back home.  Can you spare a few bucks for gas money and something to eat?”

“Stay in the truck” my then boyfriend told me.  He got out to have a word with the man, probably to prevent him from coming any closer to the truck.

As I waited, I watched a heavyset woman in very dark, red lipstick and matching high heels leaning her body up against the building next door.  Her hair was long and straight.  I had seen her before and knew she was a prostitute.  She would stand out there around closing time, trying to catch an eager man on way his way out of the strip club.  She wouldn’t have much luck on this night.  It hadn’t been a very busy night at the club and no one but us had lingered in the parking lot.

“How much did you give him?” I asked as he got back in the truck and started home.  “I gave him twenty bucks.  I shouldn’t have but I did.  I told him that a man should never beg for money.  He’s young.  He should go out and look for a job.”

At the light, he turned the truck around and went by the club again.  “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I just want to see something.”  We drove by just in time to see our pale, hungry, down on his luck pal hand the prostitute the twenty and disappear with her behind the building.  “I knew it!” he shouted.  “He gave my money to the prostitute!”

Of course he did.  And pissed as we were that night, we had to laugh at ourselves.  Although he probably laughed a little less than I did.

An Acquired Taste

Jinney was tall and thin with shoulder length brown hair and large natural breasts.  But Jinney was also at least twice my age.  Her tits were beautiful but looked somehow out of place on her nearly menopausal body.  I was only a couple months into my dancing years when I met Jinney.  I was still learning and absorbing new information about the environment I had thrown myself into

I took a liking to her because she was always worth watching, like a good TV show.  Once, I told her that guys kept offering me drugs, specifically coke.  I thought it was shitty of a guy to offer a girl drugs to try to take advantage of her.  Jinney looked up and said, “What’s wrong with that? If a guy offered me coke I’d probably do a little line or two.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Sure.  Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose.  Of course I would say thank you and give him big kiss.”

“You kiss them?”

“Yeah.  You should always kiss your customers.  Not on the mouth, just grab him by the face and kiss him anywhere you can get him, the cheek, the forehead, wherever.  Show him your appreciation.”

I remember seeing Jinney dance on stage while this little fifty-something year old man sat at the bar watching her with complete devotion and adoration towards her.  He used to come in all the time to see her and was completely loyal to her.  He had eyes for no one else.  I sat with him one night and all he did was talk about her.  “She’s a good girl” he’d say.  I wondered if “girl” was the appropriate word.  ‘Woman’ seemed more suitable.

I learned from one of the DJs that Jinney had auditioned here and when they told her to wait for a phone call, she just ignored those instructions and showed up to work the next day.  Some people thought she’d been hired by someone else.  Anyone who became aware that she was never meant to be hired simply didn’t have the heart or the balls to approach her and tell her so.  She happily became part of our staff.

Some young men we’re hanging out at the club one Thursday.   They liked me a lot but when they saw Jinney one of them exclaimed, “What the hell is she doing up there?”

Jinney was always nice to me so I got defensive.

“She does pretty well here actually “.

“I don’t believe it”, they said.

“She does.   Trust me.”

But Jinney never cared when customers told her she was too old or not pretty enough.  She never even seemed the least bit upset.  All she would say is, “No need to defend me, sweetie.  Don’t worry about it.  I’m an acquired taste”.

Tossing the Salad

I was tending bar on a Saturday night.  After serving a gentlemen another drink, I asked him if he had sampled the entertainment.  I hadn’t seen him go for a dance since he’d been there.  He said, “I’m not doing that again.  Last time I was here I paid $200 to lick some girl’s asshole out.  The bitch shoulda paid me for what I did.”

I thought it was kind of funny.  I shared the story with my friend Venus.  She listened as her blue eyes stared off in the other direction.  I never knew Venus as a girl who did extras so I thought I could safely tell her about what one of our coworkers had done in the dance room.  I said, “Can you believe someone would do that?”  I’d known girls who offered extras but had never heard of anyone offering that on the menu.

A rosy pink color filled my friend’s pale cheeks as she tried to hold back a smile.  She turned toward me and started laughing.  “I can’t lie.  I’ll admit it.  It was me.  I wasn’t making any money that night.  I was stressed out and I needed it.  IT FELT GOOD AS HELL.”

Laughing, I replied, “Well, I guess that’s one way to relieve stress”.

Cum Dumpster

There is a guy who comes in to see me.  When I sit in his lap and dance, he calls me “cum dumpster” and many other filthy names.  I really don’t mind.

The thing that surprised me was when he asked me, “So when can I get you pregnant?”  I thought it was part of the fantasy role-playing at first.  Then I realized he was serious.  “I don’t have any kids or a girlfriend and I want a kid before it’s too late.  I make a decent salary.  It could work.”

Now I’m honored that someone would ask this of me, especially after having met me in a strip club.  But I have to wonder how he came to the conclusion that the girl sitting his lap, wearing a vinyl mini-dress and patent leather stilettos would be a good choice of mother for his kid.  I’m pretty sure that when I write the list for my sons of what NOT to do in life, purposefully impregnating a stripper will be one of the top ten.

He justified his request by saying, “You seem like a good person and a good Mom.”  This kind of compliment inside the walls of a strip club feels pretty good.  But how does he know I’m not a total piece of shit?  “I can just tell.” he says.

Well, that, is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.  And to think, it came right after he called me “cum dumpster!”

The Disgruntled Manager

One of our managers, former manager now, was always in a bad mood.  The job was probably, simply not for him.  Still, he pushed on for a number of years before he gave it up to save his sanity.

He was the lowest on the totem pole of managers.  So while he was a manager, he got stuck with the worst shifts and still had to answer to the boss above him.

Things always seemed to go awry more often when he was working, too.  And not because he wasn’t good at his job.  It was just Murphy’s Law working against him.  If the ATM machine was going to stop working, it was going to happen on his shift.  And the system for cash advances would cut out that night too.  If a bunch of girls were going to get high in the bathroom and have to be sent home, it happened on his shift.  It was just the way it was.

As I’ve said before, there are some nights when I make hundreds of dollars while there are others that make nothing at all.  One snowy night, the last of our bar customers had left.  There was one other guy and he was tucked away in the champagne room with one of the few girls working that night.

Now, our manager guy was not in a very good mood (as usual).  The snow storm had begun and he was now down to only two girls working the floor.  He didn’t have four wheel drive and he was lucky that the DJ hadn’t decided to call out that night.

Abbey, a freckle faced blonde I worked with at the time, watched him standing by the DJ booth with his arms folded.  He was probably pissed because the boss hadn’t yet given him the word to close up the club.  I could see her looking at him, eyeing up his broad, muscular shoulders.  She decided this was the perfect time to show him her appreciation.

There were no more customers at the bar.  I had been bartending that night and since there were no more bar customers, I’d taken the time to do a couple spins around the pole with Abbey.  “He’s so cute!” she whispered to me, smiling.  “Keep dancing with me”.

I spun around one pole, stretching my legs out and pointing the toes of my flat shoes like a ballerina.  I watched Abbey spin around her pole, holding on tightly and opening her legs as she twirled.  Something was missing.  She had taken off her panties!

Mr. Manager looked away and headed back to his office.  I wondered if he’d seen Abbey’s special surprise.  I was sure he had but he sure didn’t act like it.

The boss finally gave the word to close the club early due to the inclement weather.  As I waited for Mr. Manager to total up my drawer, I smiled at him and said, “Abbey has a crush on you.”

“I’m trying not to notice” he stated.

“You should try to cheer up” I said.

“I will when I have a reason to”.

Two years later, he was no longer part of our staff.  He’d taken another job somewhere but came to visit us at the Christmas party.  He wore a Santa hat with the words “BAH HUMBUG!” embroidered on the front.  He smiled at me and said, while pointing to his hat, “It suits me, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does.”

The Funniest Story I’ve Ever Heard

 Lots of married men come to the club.  They’re not all up to no good but some of them are.  I’m kind of friendly with these two married guys who work together at a big business.  I won’t say where or what business, but they are colleagues.  They come in business suits to chat up the ladies.

This past summer, one of them came in by himself.  “Where’s our buddy?” I asked.

“He’s staying in tonight.  He had things to do.”

“Well tell him I said hi”.

“Of course….”  Then the man told me, “He’s getting divorced, you know.  Wife went through his phone and said he was cheating on her”.

“Oh no!  Really?” I said.  “I didn’t know he was having an affair.”

“Well, that’s what his wife said was going on”.

“Bummer.  Please tell him that I’m very sorry to hear that.”

We ended up talking about cheating.  He told me that a guy they knew from work had been stowing condoms in his golf bag.  His wife had gone through it and discovered the rubbers.  He told me that the guy was a quick thinker and came up with an explanation.  He told her, “It’s not what you think! You see…  I put those on the handle of my golf club when it rains to help me get a better grip.”  His wife, apparently bought his story.

I could not stop laughing after hearing this.  Condoms used to enhance one’s grip on a golf club in the rain!  I dare you to tell me a better story than that one!




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