Friday night started out with the Mexican Octopus. He was from San Jose, CA and in town for his son’s soccer tournament. I guess he snuck out after the team of 10 year olds went to bed. “No..no…” I would say everytime I took his hands off my thigh and placed them onto the chair, “I don’t know what’s allowed in San Jose, but here you can grope the chair all you want!”
Everytime I turned around, one of his tentacles was sneaking up my outer thigh again. So in true kickboxing style, I leaned back, balanced on my right leg, pressed my left knee squarely in his chest and pushed his torso firmly into the back of the chair. This is a great alpha-female move. It lets them know that you’re not going to take any crap from them. The Mexican Octopus loved the challenge…and it revealed his foot fetish. As I stood there, basically in a side kick position he took my shoe off and started rubbing my feet. Ding Ding Ding…I saw the opportunity for an upsell.
“Honey…it’s against health code for me to take my shoes off right here since we serve food…” I pointed to the plate of buffalo wings on his table. I am personally not turned on by feet. Especially feet that have been crammed into plastic shoes for several hours. Luckily I had just washed my stilettos two days ago (note: running your shoes through top rack of the dishwasher every two weeks keeps the insoles white and smelling fresh) AND I had my mani/pedi maintenance day so my french manicured toenails were a selling point.
I cut a mutually beneficial deal ith The Mexican Octopus and we go upstairs. I pull a chair across from him, sit down, and put my feet in his lap. Normally, I have to pay for a foot massage if I go to a dayspa. But the Mexican Octopus paid me to sit there while he rubbed my feet. It was a good foot massage too! Now, there is a slight trade off. At a dayspa the massage therapist doesn’t sneak a whiff here and there. The Mexican Octopus was rubbing my feet against his face, and pressing his chin into the webbing between my toes.
It reminded me of a former student who had ADHD and needed an outlet to channel his energy. As soon as we got him enrolled in gymnastics, his behavior improved. Likewise, the Mexican Octopus just needed something to channel the excess energy stored in his tentacles. I sat there fully clothed watching him knead the pressure points in my arch. He was so absorbed with my feet to even notice I was sitting there. 9 minutes later our time was up and I had my business overhead covered and a bit of profit. What a way to start the evening!
“So, I’m sitting with this baseball player…and he’s really hot…and I want to go out with him….and he asked me for my number…” my friend Priscilla rattles to me in the locker room. “Why couldn’t I have met him outside of here? I just CAN’T go out with a customer…” she muses.
“Why not? Normal guys come in here all the time. This day in age, it’s pretty ABnormal to meet a professional type guy who doesn’t go to strip clubs once in a while.” I respond.
The rest of the evening had a familiar cast of normal characters. DonJuan my PuertoRican/Italian hottie who I haven’t seen since November stopped in. I’ve known DonJuan for about 2 years. He has an uberstressful job as a banker. Here’s a guy who likes to drink beer and look at pretty scantily-clad girls. Can’t get more normal than that! Mike Brady the architect also popped in. Another nice normal guy who likes to conversate with pretty scantily-clad girls. Go figure! DJ John stopped in to say hi to all his former co-workers. I realized last night that DJ John is the only person (besides my husband) who is still in my life that can recall a time when I was “the drunk girl who didn’t make any money tonite.” Never Again! Thank you Naked Assets!
I’m heading to the gym. Then I’ll do it all over again tonite 
Tags: champagne room, christie's cabaret, customers, exotic dancer, phoenix, strip club, stripper, vip