I used to work at a lap dance club in Cambridge called The Talk of the Town.
I was then working on the door as a SIA badged door operative. On arrival at the club the patrons would get the following speech from us, "Good evening sir, no cameras, switch off your phone and hand it in, don't touch the girls, no rowdiness and have a good evening". We would stand for no nonsence and regularly had to eject drunks or groups of lads who wouldn't obey the rules. Now I don't look like the average bald giant bouncer. I'm about half the size of the big lads but I've got a bit of history and know how to deal with these kind of situations. Enough said. If I didn't like a particular person in a group I would say, "Oh and you, no wanking in the bogs this time". This used to make me smile as his mates would give him hell for a bit.

Audition night is a bit like the early shows of the X Factor. You get all the girls who honestly think they are pretty or slim enough to get a job as a dancer but are in fact, munters. Poor girls. Don't get me wrong they are usually really nice girls but the club has quite high standards. It's a rather up market club with lots of plush carpets and leather sofas, not a spit and sawdust strip joint with the smell of toilets, stale beer and the essence of Billinsgate. There are pole dancers, topless bar staff and lap dancers. It is run properly and no hidden charges, you know like paying a tenner to get in, then when you get to the bottom of the stairs there is a couple of thugs wanting another tenner and so on. It is very up market and a gentleman can enjoy sitting in a comfy chair with a bird serving you drinkies with her hooters out, another one stark bollock naked sitting on his lap poking her norks in his face and a few more doing remarkable things up poles. Now on occasion they hold 'Blue Nights'. (invite only) Now they are quite special and require a separate thread. Let's just say they are even more intimate.

One day I was in early as the club was auditioning new girls and although the club was closed, it's always best to play safe. In the lounge there was a pole dance session open to the local women to get some excercise. It is quite popular. The women are usually just in their undies and enjoy working the poles. I was always impressed how good the teacher was. It must be bloody hard and is almost like watching an olympic floor event. Anyway, at the beginning of the evening she arrived with her huge bags which contained a couple of portable poles for her lessons. They come in four lengths of tubing and a base plate and a top plate. By screwing the pole it forces the plates tight up to the ceiling and floor.

On this night the poor girl had not joined one of the sections properly and there was a small gap between two of the sections about a metre off the ground. Before the local women arrived for their lessons the auditions began. These are always good for a laugh as there is always one girl who either makes a fool of herself or a fat one or an ugly one. The first reject was quite a nice girl, very pretty, but when she took off her clothes it was obvious she had a phobia of razors. There was bunches of thick black hair under her arms and her snatch looked like a burst sofa. NEXT!

The next girl took to the other pole. The pole with the gap. She placed one hand on the pole quite high up and wrapped her legs around the pole. As she lifted herself up onto the pole, the join snapped shut causing the pole to no longer grip the ceiling but worse was she had caught her fanny lips in the now very tight join. The poor girl was screaming in pain and being a decent sort of chap I was right in there to assist. Eventually I got her clunge free from the vice like grip and she waddled off to the dressing room with her hands cupped around her twat.

This happened a couple of years back now but we still dine out on the story. The girl gave up her ambition to become a pole dancer and the last time I saw her, she was sitting at the checkout at the local Tesco. I no longer work there. I now do a stand up comedy act and you can probably guess where I get most of my material from.
( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Thu 9 Apr 2009, 9:28, 2 replies)

My nutsack shrunk
at the thought of catching groinal skin like that. Youch!
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Mon 13 Apr 2009, 8:02, closed)

*clicks*
Well written and funny.

Have a click.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 15 Apr 2009, 11:42, closed)