ugh. slut-sitting.Sure, being 'in charge' of a bevvy of buxom strippers sounds like a blast. But not so much once you realize that in addition to your own soul-killing stints at the pole, you have to try and schedule two dozen single-mother cokeheads around their various crises, enforce the heinous tip-out policy on hard-ass bitches who consider themselves dressed in only a g-string and heels but naked without their .38's, and patrol the toilets to bust up illegal transactions, the glamor starts to fade. And that's not even mentioning picking up the dressing room after everyone's left and tacking pasties and dirty thongs to the 'Lost and Found' board. Just remembering it makes me crave penicillin. . .
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Mon 10 Nov 2003, 23:16,
archived)
Well, you startby being eighteen and waking up one morning to realize that you are broke, hot, and shameless. Then you tell yourself that the Penthouse Forum-esque quality of that last sentence really doesn't matter, and apply at the titty bar by the airport on a dare.
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Fri 14 Nov 2003, 3:23,
archived)
A PastieIs a tiny little bit of fluff or sparkle or tassle that strippers affix to their nipples with adhesive. Some areas have laws that say you can't serve alcohol AND expose nipples in the same dive, so three inches of star-shaped sequins can save your liquor license. Most of them were giving head in the john for the price of a movie ticket anyway, so I never quite understood why they were so concientious about the "button and bush" concealment policy. . . .
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Fri 14 Nov 2003, 3:19,
archived)