Ryann Reflections

A glimpse into the life of one anti-social stripper nerd.

Saturday, November 11, 2006


It’s early and I can smell the arrogance from across the bar, their need to feel flashy and powerful. I can’t tell yet how much is talk and how much is monetary gain, but there’s one way to find out. Moving into the circle of men I begin to access the group. The Money Man is quickly identified. He’s middle aged, slightly portly, casually dressed, and carrying a wad of cash in his left hand. It’s his nephew’s birthday, and he’s determined to showcase every possible disrespectful and narcissistic behavior in the book. I have no doubt that the birthday boy will be taught how to buy women, and how to tell them their worth. I’m sure he’ll be a real doll within a few years.

Tonight he’s 19, and trainable. The money is flowing and I do a few dances for the birthday boy, his uncle, and a few other guys in the party. Money Man is talking about their plans, and how extravagant the evening is going to be. They’re going to an exclusive club, in their limo, and I ought to be impressed. He wants to make a deal on the evening, for a few dancers to join the party. I’m willing to talk and negotiate as long as he’s paying me to do so. “$1000, no sex and no drugs, and sure I’ll come party with you. You want me out of the bar, you have to make it worth me leaving the bar.”

Apparently that’s not the deal, and “extras” are desired. If sex was on the menu, he should have hired a few escorts, and got his money’s worth. As it stands right now, I’ve pocketed a couple hundred, as has every other girl who’s been pretending to negotiate while Money Man proves his worth. No dancers left the bar.

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