So, you got the phone number of one of the alluring strippers Perth has to offer, huh? You called her and you both spoke about this and that and had a lovely little discussion, huh? What is her given name? Cinnamon? Going out to lunch with her on Saturday, eh? Very well done. Here are a few pointers, because dating a stripper is a risky business, and the only thing you’ll get out of it is bragging rights for the rest of your life. This post is based on what I learned on my quick visit to Stripperville.
First and foremost, you must have a goal in mind before embarking on this adventure. What are you looking for from the Stripper? A few nights out on the town with a beauty on your arm? Sex? Free admission to the Titty Bar, where you first met her? True love that lasts forever? Handjob? Look, going into this without a plan is a sure way to fail, since she works on her own terms, and if you let her control you and run the show, you’re doomed. She meets 50 prospective dates every night, so she’s just playing the odds with you. She’s hoping to find someone who can handle her, but no one can. Believe me. Nobody can stand up to her. You’ll never be able to alter her or take her out of Stripperville. Keep it in mind and your sights on the prize.
There are a few things to think about:
1. You are not unique.
You’re one of the 18 people she’s juggling right now, and one of a hundred who see her nude beauty every night. It’s her duty to make men feel like they’re the only ones she cares about. She is well compensated for her talent. That seductive glare she’s giving you across the dinner table with her piercing green eyes is the same one that makes 75 men-a-night fumble for their wallets and stuff fistfuls of green down her G-string despite the fact that they’re six months late on child support.
2. She has a higher income than you. Become accustomed to it.
Keep in mind that she’s one of the strippers Perth features which means that she probably earns more than most corporate lawyers (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). She’s raking in $2,000 to $5,000 a week tax-free, and you shouldn’t expect her to pay for anything. It’s not in her character. Every night, guys fawn all over her and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an attempt to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she’ll pretend she’s never done, but the other ladies at the club have — right — she’s done it at least once).
3. You’re in for a cyclone of agony if you get emotionally engaged with this girl.
Broken dates, damaged windows, holes punched in doors, a plethora of ex-boyfriends and spouses, a thousand “friends” phoning all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes, and a couple customers who pursued her for six months are in your future with this girl. Her flat is filled with wet G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, as well as empty containers of body glitter, mascara, prescription medications, acne treatment, Aqua Net, and Polaroid photographs of her and her “friends” celebrating St. Patrick’s Day last year. The Polaroid photos of her and her stripper pals getting nasty for the entire bar are still floating around town because one of the guys she dated last month grabbed them from her nightstand when he realized the end was close and he wasn’t going to get any more Cinnamon Love.
3. She has more male buddies than you had in high school and college combined.
Sometimes they’ll simply show up while you and your friend are hanging out and you’re thinking of getting romantic. The male buddy will ask her if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge right in front of you, and she will look at you with sparkling eyes and say, “Yeah — let’s go to Happy Hour with Tim here — it’ll be great!” And you, still clutching that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes, and you’ll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she’s the most popular girl in the bar, and everyone with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon, which is blazing through Stripperville at an extremely dangerous speed.
All of those “male pals” started off the same way you did, chief. They glimpsed the Promised Titty Land and believed they, too, might go there. They were demoted to “friends” after they got weary of the nonsense and drama, or she found someone else. They could have purchased a fucking yacht with all the money they wasted on Cinnamon, and now they cling to some sliver of hope, hoping that she’ll get drunk enough some night and allow them spit on the slit. You could all get together and tell the same tales about drunken evenings, total disappointment, and bewildered, frantic whack-off sessions when you realized that dating a stripper is like trying to discuss Nietzsche with a Dalmation.
4. Her life is a whirlwind of activities chosen at random.
This improves her low self-esteem. At 10 a.m., she’ll be hurtling down the road at 130 mph on the back of some guy’s crotch rocket. By 1pm, she’s already at another guy’s place, nude in the pool with him and his Great Dane named Robo. By 5 p.m., she’s performing “X” at another guy’s place, after which she returns home for a five-minute shower and gets ready for work.
5. She will cancel three dates in a row.
As one of the popular strippers Perth offers, she knows she has you when you keep calling. After she tells you she’s traveling to Mexico with some of her “friends,” your Saturday night meal and special room at the fucking Ritz will be gone. Her fanciful vacation to Mexico will be remembered as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you’ll most likely come across some digital pictures of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo when browsing some amateur porn site on the Internet.
It’s a hectic affair, to be sure, but just keep these do’s and don’ts in mind and you’ll be fine:
DON’T EVER CALL HER WITHOUT ANNOUNCING YOUR NAME. Her phone rings more than all of the New York Times’ phone lines combined. Don’t put her in the awkward position of attempting to guess your name.” Is that Steve? Rick? Mike? Dave? Javier? Justin? Michael? Chris? Matt? Juan? Adam? Alex? Roberto? Ed? Brian? Eugene? Tim?” She’ll make it very apparent that she has a plethora of suitors, which thrills her to no end, and she’ll have you in a bottle of bourbon by 9 p.m. that night. “Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just strolling around Tiffany’s, gazing at a $900 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you,” try to seem happy. (She is a smoker. They are all smokers. She’d gushed about a Tiffany’s ashtray. But don’t believe it. Make her believe you would have bought it for her if it had a rose engraved on it.)
DON’T ASK HER ABOUT HER TATTOOS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO LOOK LIKE ONE OF HER CLIENTS.
DO NOT TRY TO OUTRUN HER.
Don’t leave work early to spend the day with her. She works at night, while you work throughout the day. Maintain your current position. Her days are spent in tanning booths, Frederick’s of Hollywood, and fashionable outdoor cafés with her fellow strippers Perth features eating poached salmon salads with dressing on the side.
DO keep a large sum of money in a money clip. When the meal bill arrives, make sure she sees you strip off the bills. Better still, pull out the Corporate Amex and chuck it on the table like a poor poker hand. After you make the Amex throw, clasp your hands behind your head and lean back in your chair, as if to say, “Do you see what I mean? You have unlimited credit, baby.”
Remember this: strippers Perth features are more messed up than The Who were during their 1973 “Quadrophenia” Tour in the United Kingdom. Because there’s so much freedom and money in Stripperville, they’re a horrible bunch to hang out with. They have everything and don’t need you or anybody else. All they need is a Xanax and a Raspberry Stoli on the rocks, and they’re good to go. Yes, the job. That is what drives the lifestyle, and you will never be able to separate her from it. Don’t even think about it.