Guys, guys! Check it! See that hot babe working the pole over there? That’s Jocelyn and she totally digs me; she told me so. She said I am not like the other guys in here and she’s right. I’m a sensitive guy. I’m a listener.

I’m sorry, Randy. Could you speak up? I said I am a listener, not a mind-reader. No? If you got something to say, just say it. Didn’t think so.

Anyway, I was having a private dance with Jocelyn a few minutes ago and she was telling me about how all the other guys in here (including you meat-heads, nyuk nyuk) are so ugly and don’t really care about a woman’s needs. Ergo, I am an attractive man who knows what a woman wants. Yes, Gary, she did say this while grinding against my junk and asking for the money up front. What’s your point? Look, she knows it’s a job, I know it’s her job. But she was honestly happy to “finally have a hot guy to dance for,” as she so eloquently put it. She said that only confident men wear green corduroys.

Guys, I think I’m in love.

Hey, did you know that you’re supposed to tip the stripper? I’m sorry. I mean “dancer.” Did you know you’re supposed to tip the dancer twice? I thought I should give you a heads up on that. Yeah, Jocelyn told me. You’re supposed to tip the dancer on the way into the “private dance” area, then again on the way out. You’re also supposed to tip the heavy-set black guy manning the door who eyes you up the whole time. He’s not just keeping the girls safe. He’s keeping you safe as well.

Clyde, I don’t see what’s so funny about safety.

I never thought I would date a stri…private dancer. This is going to prove tough on my patience. I know it’s kind of ironic to say it, but I don’t think I want her taking her clothes off for other guys once we settle down together. I know it sounds hypocritical…? But that’s just the way I feel…? And isn’t that what part of love is about? Is overcoming odds and compromising? I don’t see it as me making her quit so much as I am rescuing her from this place. It’s like An Officer and a Gentleman except that I am a toll booth operator.

I already have these cute nicknames picked out for her for when we are going to the antique store on weekends and buy cute little knickknacks—-wow! Look at her work on that pole! Where was I? Right. I could call her ocelot“Jocelot.” You know, like “ocelot,” but fashioned with her name. It’s adorable. Or I could be like, “Hey, could you toss me the T.v Guide? Thanks a Joce-lot.”

Yeah, you’re right, Steve. Nobody reads T.v Guide anymore.

Personally, I think this is a done deal. She didn’t tell me when her shift ends exactly, but I feel like I could walk up to her anytime and ask her out.  You don’t believe me, Randy? She likes me, she said so. I’ll prove it. You want to bet? Fine! 50 bucks. Well, I don’t have 50 bucks on me right now, not anymore.  But you know I’m good for it.


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