Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Two Sides To Every Stripper


Time: 1987
Place: Atlanta, GA

I lived next door to a weekend stripper. During the week, Christie worked as a graphic designer and on the weekends, she took her clothes off at a strip club.

“I make more money on the weekend than I do all week,” Christie told me.

I never considered going to see Christie perform. It seemed inappropriate since I knew her as my neighbor. I was out drinking with my good buddy, Ted, when I made the mistake of telling him about Christie’s weekend job.

“Let’s go see her,” Ted said. “Let’s go see her tonight. Let’s go see her right now!”

“I don’t know, Ted,” I said. “She lives next door. I’d feel really weird seeing her stripping.”

Ted kept arguing and we kept drinking and some time after too much booze and too much of Ted badgering me, I finally caved in. I had to admit, I was curious to see what Christie looked like naked. Then again, I wanted to know what ninety percent of the woman on the planet looked like naked.

We drove to the strip club, paid the admission, and squeezed into an empty two top table. Though the place was packed, a waitress in a tight t-shirt and short shorts pulled up to reveal plenty of camel toe arrived shortly after we sat down.

After we ordered our drinks I asked the waitress, “Is Christie around?”

I was hoping the waitress would say Christie had decided to take the night off, but instead she said, “I send her right over, honey.”

Christie arrived at our table the same time as our drink order. Christie was medium height, slim with long curly brown hair. She had firm breasts and a nice ass. She was wearing blood red lingerie and spiked heels. Dollar bills hung from her garter belt like green confetti.

“Howdy neighbor,” Christie said, giving me a hug. “Who’s your friend?”

Christie smiled seductively at Ted. He looked like he was about to drool. After a minute or two of polite chit chat, Christie asked if we wanted a table dance.

“Why sure,” Ted said, reaching for his wallet.

“I like this song,” Christie said. “Let’s do it now.”

I thought “table dance” was a generic term and that Christie would dance in front of our table, but no, she borrowed my chair and used it as a ladder to climb on top of our table. In rhythm with the music, Christie whisked off her bra and panties and draped each item over Ted’s shoulders. Ted and I were sitting across from each other, so as Christie danced, she faced Ted for awhile and then turned to face me. As she danced, she talked, and what she said to Ted was completely different from what she said to me.

To Ted, Christie said, “Mickey never told me he had such a handsome friend. That mustache makes you look so sexy. Do you like my breasts? Can you tell how hard my nipples are getting?”

Then she turned and said to me, “Have you done your laundry lately?”

“I tried,” I said, “but the washer was busted.”

Our apartment building had a small dingy laundry room with an ancient washer and dryer.

“The same thing happened to me,” Christie said. “What the fuck is the deal?”

“You tell me,” I said. “I’ve already called the landlord three times and the lazy bastard still hasn’t fixed it.”

Christie turned back to Ted and said, “You must work out. A guy doesn’t get muscles like yours if he didn’t work out. Do you like the way I trimmed my pubic hair?”

Christie turned to me and said, “I’m going to call the landlord first thing in the morning and bitch him out. I pay my rent on time. The least he can do is keep the place up properly.”

Christie kept up these two separate conversations throughout the table dance. When the song she was dancing to ended, she put her lingerie back on and climbed down off our table.

“I hope to see you again real soon,” Christie said to Ted, trailing a finger down the side of his jaw.

“I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what the landlord tells me,” she said to me.

Ted and I watched Christie’s well-formed rump as she walked away.

“You happy now?” I asked.

“Maybe we could have her do another table dance a little later?” Ted said.

“Why?” I said. “So she and I can discuss the problems we’re having with garbage pickup?”

1 comment:

thehuskybear said...

Haha.. thats pretty funny man! I got a friend who has a stripper for a roommate... I know he's thought of going to see her, but he probably gets a better show at home!!