Why can’t ALL my clients be as insightful (and totally friggin hot!) as Blaze? We were chatting yesterday, as we do when he has downtime during his 48-hour-long firefighter shifts. He said this about dancers who appear to be cold and uninterested on stage:

“The bottom line is that strippers are still women. And, as such, there are ten thousand reasons why they may appear cold and uninterested, all of which may have nothing to do with you (the guy). They may not have gotten any tips at all that night and are standing there, re-evaluating their lot in life as they grind through another stage appearance. They may have read a post about how they give BJs in the VIP and are pissed off about it. There mind may be a thousand miles away on something that has nothing at all to do with their dancing. And this, to a guy who is insecure and craves the full attention of a stripper, may come off as cold and uninterested.

The perfect example is a girl at CCs. She was dancing and had the far off stare- totally sendin uninterested/cold vibes to everyone. I was the only one who tipped out of two songs. I tipped alright (not a bunch) and suggested she come over to the table when she got done. In my mind, I thought there was no way she was coming over and was just taking a long shot- anticipating an average dance. Turns out, she was thinking about some stuff at home and we spent an hour together, resulting in her giving me her number unsolicited. (Hmmm…Was this the night you were late and I signed out with Kelly the Cotton man?)

Men need to remember that the girls are people, not just strippers. There are things on their mind other then the sweaty, hairy guys panting after them on stage. If the guys want a good dance, and want decent company, they need to remember that THEY are part of a transaction as well, and that people skills will take them far, too.”

But, as us strippers know: really hot, really insightful clients like Blaze are the minority.  This is the kind of guy that scores our phone number.  This is the kind of guy we date, and in my case eventually marry.  Yes, hubby (who will from now on be referred to as Vinnie Vigglioti in honor of his Italian heritage) was one of my first lapdances 7 1/2 years ago.

Side note on the origin of Vinnie Vigglioti: When I was engaged, I was very resistant to change my last name.  Everything I had done in my life was in my maiden name: college, graduate school, fitness certifications and awards.  I didn’t want to lose that part of my identity.  So one night over martinis and Limoncello, I suggested that we both legally change our names to something completely different.  So for a brief drunken moment we actually considered legally changing our names to Avalon and Vinnie Vigglioti.

Ironically, the name “Vinnie Vigglioti” somehow got on someone’s mailing list and actually receives mail at our house.  Oh, and I changed my name yesterday on Facebook to Avalon Vigglioti….changes are pending.

Tonight was an interesting Wednesday night.

First I ran into my old friend, Addonis the Greek. 

“Hey!  Did you ever find your phone?”  I asked him.  The last time I saw him, about 3 months ago, he was frantically searching for his cell phone that he SWORE he left on the table.  I helped him move the chairs, looked under the table, got the floormen to come over with the flashlight….but alas his phone was gone.  He left the club, drunk and  grumbling about how everyone’s a thief, and he’s never coming back here again….

“Uhhhh, yeah…” he said shaking his head, smirking…

“Really?”  I raised an eyebrow, knowing something was up.

“Apparently it, uh…it was in my car.” he admitted

“What?  So you never even brought it into the club?” I asked.

“No, I’m not that lame….when I saw you last time it was after I left the club, got in my car….put the phone down…but it was dark and I couldn’t see it….sooooo… I THOUGHT I had left it in the club.  So I got out of the car, went back in to find it, but I couldn’t find it…”

“….because it was in your car”  I finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah.”  Adonnis then said the quote of the night:

  “Avalon, you are wiser than your cup size.”

Now that’s just classic.

On his way out, Addonnis said to me, “Thank you for your contribution to society.  Without you and places like this to de-stress; there would be a lot more violent crime.”  Interesting thought.

A few hours later, I was “doing the table dance rounds” as I call it..when I came eye to eye with a nice looking gentleman in his late 30s.  Big smile, I could just tell he had a big personality before he said a word.

“Hi.  Would you like a dance, I only charge ten dollars” he said to me.

“OK.  But this is a topless bar and I want to stick it in your gsting.” I told him. 

“Good comeback! Let me give you all my money.” he said.  Sweet!  Of course I have witty responses for AAALLL the stupid jokes guys make when they’re drunk and think they’re funny.

So we walk over to an empty table.  I sit on his lap and start the standard conversation I have over and over and over and over and over again every night.  It usually consists of Hi.  How are you tonight.  Where are you from.  What brings you to town. Do you come to Phoenix very often. What field are you in.  Blah Blah Blah.

Then the first full song starts, and my typical close is “So you’re ready for me to take my top off and wiggle for you now, huh?” I ask nodding my head up and down in a yes pattern.  It fascinates me how this simple question when combined with the subliminal up and down motion of the head nod ALWAYS elicits a “yes” response.

“So, do you have a name or do I get to name you?”  I ask him.  Funny, sometimes when I get to talking to an interesting person,  I forget to ask their name. 

“Name me.  Then tie me up, dominate me and tell me what to do.” He says.

“OK Mr. Slave,” I say without missing a beat.  I was watching South Park earlier today…the one where Mr Slave breaks up with Mr Garrison…it was the first thing that popped into my head.

“You have been very bad!  First, you’re going to give me all your money…”  I paused to see if he would obey.  He opened his wallet and took out all the bills, I saw two bens and a few twenties and threw it on the table.  Sweet.  This is too easy.

“Now arms behind the chair”  I ordered.   Using my robe, I tied his hands behind the chair.  Simple bondage guys rock.  They don’t try to grab you, they actually want their movement to be restricted, and I have total control. 

It doesn’t get any easier than Mr Slave