Sometimes, we cross the finish line


Some men will "finish" while receiving lap dances. The first thought for the stripper who dances for these men is that she is grinding too hard or doing something that is otherwise “nasty.” This is not the case. There is definitely a different kind of guy who finishes at a strip club. I encounter the situation about once every three or four months. Normally, men who finish, finish fast. In my experience they are also older, which seems counterintuitive. I’d expect really young guys would have this problem more than the older men. Like I said, it happens in the blink of an eye and your eye better be shut or you might lose it. I’m joking. Of course it amounts to nothing more than a little puddle. They are not the guys who are buying tons of dances. Two or three songs, I’d estimate. They really get their money’s worth, if you ask me.

My friend told me a story about a guy that keeps a pair of loose shorts in his truck and puts them on for lap dances. She says that he comes to her club to get lap dances from one girl and finishes every time. She says he doesn’t wash the shorts. She says they probably smell. I wonder what crusted sweat shorts in the hot summer sun begin to smell like. I’m curious.

One story that stands out in my mind about a quick finish was a time when I had just finished dancing onstage. I was walking away from the stage, trying not to stumble in my 6-inch heels in the dark room on uneven carpets and my top was not even completely back on, and a man catches up to me and says, “You’re so pretty. I want a lap dance from you.” I, of course, agreed but got my money up front. He didn’t seem entirely coherent. Not incoherent in the drunk sense but in the pre-dementia stages of development sense. He must have been about 50 years old. He was wearing a dirty white baseball cap and had a cataract on his eye. I better be up for an Oscar this year for pretending I’m turned on for him. We sit down together. “You’re so pretty. I see the other girls but you’re so pretty.” “Can you really see through that white film?” I wondered. I tell him we start on the next song. “Don’t worry, I can’t even get it up,” he volunteers. Why would he tell me that? The next song begins and I begin dancing. It is my first lap dance of the night and I’m warming up. I cannot imagine a cleaner, lower contact dance. My leg grazes his groin area and then my leg is wet. That’s excellent customer service, if you ask me.


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