Random Thoughts & Musings on Clubbing, from a year (or so) in the game.

After about a year of taking my clubbing game from the amateurs to pros, and now contemplating a break, a bunch of random thoughts about these experiences come to mind. I often joke that I'm only doing this to study the strip club sciences (with a concentration in Bootyology), but in all sincerity there is a social dynamic that takes place there, and it is a work place like any other, and it is as worthy of study as anywhere else (plus it has all those fat asses in it). 1.The first step in this lifestyle, I think is to make the decision to walk up into the strip club alone. Everyone has gone to a strip club with a group of guys, and most guys who travel for business, have made that should I go out to a bar/club for civies vs strip club decision. But taking that step to walk boldly (or sheepishly, it counts too) alone into a strip club in your home town, that is the beginning of moving the dial from the amateur to professional ranks. A sub set of this, is when you next take that walk into the strip club, in your home town, in broad daylight. 2. When you begin to club at multiple places, you begin to notice it - pink and purple neon. Whenever I get close to the club you see it, and for me it's a feeling like, "I'm here". Occasionally, I notice it now at other places and it grabs your attention. Like what's that, is that a club I've never seen before? Oh it's a just an auto body shop. But that pink & purple neon captures your PL mind, like a bat signal. 3. Strippers trying to kiss. It's funny, there definitely is a cadre of dancers out there who will not kiss or get themselves close enough to get kissed by a PL (arguably there are as many PLs who will stay away from a stripper's lips as well). With all that being said, there are a whole lot of strippers that go for the kiss. And even after being rebuffed by the PL will go back to try again. 4. And while I'm speaking of kissing, I conceptually find eating out a dancer while, you are effectively paying for the service of doing so, amazing. It's very egotistical to think of it as a service to them - I doubt any do it because they want to be eaten out but rather, it's just another move in their arsenal of tools/tricks. But nonetheless, paying to essentially service someone else is fascinating (even if she's just doing it, because that is what your nasty PL ass wants to do anyway). Similar to the kissing, they put it in your face, and it's essentially up to the PL to dive right in or reject it like that kiss. 5. I was asked by a dancer (repeatedly) if I was police once, as she tried to sell me extras. Said it over & over like she heard that an officer could deny he was an officer twice, but not seven times. 6. I have what another poster commented as "resting dick face". I look unhappy in the club. I very well may be enjoying myself, my face doesn't show it. Some dancers avoid me because of this. I can't help it. I tend to think that when I see something I like, my face moves from resting dick face to, luring wolf face, which I'd rather not have as well. Who knows what I look like in the club, other than the dancers. And they are professional liars, so who knows that the real answers are. 7. Speaking of professional liars: Fake love. I know its fake love, but it feels good. Everything in there is a lie, it's a fantasy world. I presume that all dancers find me and every other customer in the club disgusting. I presume that most dancers hate their job, like most of us do. But hate it because it's kind of a shitty job, where you often have to do things you don't want to do, with people you don't want to do them with. But nonetheless, because the money (quick cash on the barrelhead) is good, they push through. Imagine, a beautiful woman w/a killer body is good enough at her job to pretend that some fat, ugly loser is turning her on, or that she can fake an erotic performance in close proximity or on him. That is an amazing skill. I find you disgusting, but I'm going to rub every crevasse on my body on you, and let your grubby hands grope my body- and all the while make you feel like you are the king of the world. It's fake love, but fake love feels good. Real love feels good too, but real love will also nag you. Real love will admit there are things which are not on her menu. Real love will fall asleep. Real love wants to talk about that bullshit at her job, which you could give a shit about. Real love doesn't randomly grab your dick. Real love doesn't want to wear all that uncomfortable skimpy shit that you want her to wear. Real love would never put on a pair of clear platform heels. Fake love only asks you if you wanna dance. Fake love doesn't even need to speak the same fucking language as you-because fake love speaks the language that you want to hear. It's all fake love - but fake love feels good. 8. Because I figure they find us all disgusting, I purposefully try to be a little less disgusting. I figure if they can feel a little less disgusted with me, then they can do a little more disgusting things with me. I try to dress nice, always be clean, and try to take care of the little things like a non-stubbly face & clipped finger nails. I don't even know if any of this shit matters, and with most dancers it probably doesn't. But admittedly, I actively try to make what I would imagine would be an uncomfortable situation, less uncomfortable for them. However, while doing this I purposefully plan my wardrobe around achieving the goals above, while also making it the thinnest/softest material possible, because again, I am disgusting. 9. You want to believe stripper shit. As I stated earlier, I presume everything they say is a lie. Not because they necessarily are all lies, but rather everyone is safer if you just take as a given that everything said is a lie. I had a dancer once talk to me in an extended conversation (I'm generally not a conversationalist with dancers), but she decided she was going to sit down & talk and she had a fat ass, so I allowed it. Got a lot of her life story, some of which was boner poison, but we'd had enough of a conversation (and again the big ass), that I decided to get a dance with her. I'm not an aggressive groper in a dance, and prefer the feel of a woman's body rather than grabbing & poking. She decided I was a "nice guy" & was "handsome". A couple of times she gave me light pecks on the neck, not stripper stereotypical kisses, but more like the little nuzzle kisses you'd give your partner as they slept. At the end of the dance, we hugged and I wished her good luck with her studies. Was it all bullshit, certainly may be - while none of it seemed fake, remember above these are some of the world's greatest actresses. But, I want to believe her stripper shit. I want to believe that she is working there in the days, because she is studying nursing at night. I do want to believe that she was going to Cuba next week to see her daughter, and that one day she'll get her nursing degree, bring her daughter up here and have a better life for both of them. And of course, I want to believe that she did think I was handsome, and that in some other place she thinks that I am the type of guy that she'd like to be with. I want to believe all that, but I know all that is as likely to be true, as it is just her rehearsed lines of stripper shit that she used to play the long con and sucker me in to a dance. But she didn't even have to run all that game on me, because she had that big ass. And 15 minutes after those tender moments above, I have disgusting things going on with another dancer, because not everyone is a conversationalist. 10. I love to watch strippers run their game, even when it's annoying. A dancer I've seen a couple of times recently, runs game that I realize would have suckered me in a year ago. She is very pretty, and has a great fake rack. With those attributes she puts on a pouty beggy thing that most guys fall for from women. She is also very aggressive, like the type that will try to pull you up off of your chair towards the lap dance room. Last year this time, if she pulled her shit on me, I would have been dragged off to the room. But because I am more experienced now, I can see through her shit and see that she is the classic overpromise-underperform dancer. But nonetheless I love to watch/her her spit her game. I find my interactions with her thrilling, and I love when she tries to hustle me. I find the feeling of her spitting unadulterated stripper shit and techniques on me thrilling. It's a very ethereal moment, of being there like wow this girl is just working me. Even with all that, because I'm simple, and even though I've figured out her game, if she had a big ass, I probably would have gone back for a dance. But even more so I'm impressed by the dancers who gradually work their way in, and I appreciate the art and skill of it. Somebody who was not on my dance agenda, who through her techniques or stripper shit, somehow works her way in. Because I'm not there for the conversation, unless I'm already going gaga for you, I'm not a talker. You have to work & draw it out of me. And because I don't really care about the conversation, I can pull myself out to that ethereal place and watch the techniques and game as she gradually pulls me in to getting a dance. It is a skill, and I can just appreciate when someone does it well. Remember, I'm the guy with resting dick face, who is not into conversation. If you have me 1. talking, 2. smiling, and 3. having a flirty back and forth with you, then pat yourself on the back, because you have won. Now take my money. But simply, I love the hustler in them. Yeah some are ROBs but, they're all hustlers, and even if it is me that they are trying to hustle, I just love the game. And also, I love strippers. I love all of them, not just their tits & ass, I love the feel of their hips, of their backs, their thighs, calves and even occasionally their feet. I love the c-section scars, and the less than taut stomachs they try to hide by wearing the one piece. I just love them. Even the ones, I don't want to get dances from, the ones who's bodies I don't like, the one's to have terrible raps, the one's who don't take the hint that I'm not interested, the one I'm not interested in who's cock-blocking me when the one I'm interested in walks by, the ones wearing the terrible shoes, or the ones wearing the footy socks in the shoes because they're so uncomfortable, or they blister, the ones who lazily don't take their tops off, or just push their bits out enough w/o removing the top. I even like the one who offered me extras, and then shook her but in front of me where there was a sterotypically fishy smell from her vagina. I love them, flaws, ROBs, fucked up backgrounds and all. Except the one who suckered me into dances that I really was not interested in, only to find out that she obviously just took a huge shit, didn't effectively wipe and her ass smelled strongly of ass, in the least sensual sense of the term. Nope, here I don't love. fuck her 11. Waiving them off, Blowing them off. While dancers have their games that they throw at us, PLs have games too. Like I have no interest in what's coming towards me, let me look in the opposite direction, at my phone, cross my arms, close my legs, slide further under the table, suddenly become real interested in this random baseball game with no sound. Some get waived off because you are not, and will not be interested. Some get waived off, because as the splash page says "we just got here, come back a little later". Brushing off a dancer, while keeping her in your list of maybes, because you haven't fully surveyed the talent yet, or because she is further down on your target list, is a bit of a skill. Come back later, come back after I finish my drink, not now but maybe later, etc. One thing I'll do with a "eh, maybe" is give her a time appointment. I figure in 20 minutes, I'll have seen everything out there and made my decision. So in 20 minutes, I'll either be occupied with my hit list, or open to the "maybe" dancer. I'm not one to play games with dancers, but I do pay attention to the time, if I give them an appointment. It rarely happens, but when the punctual stripper presents herself, I'm always impressed. Punctuality is really one of the least important stills in a dancer, but in a push it may just be the added factor to push you over the top on the dance or no dance decision. 12. Occasionally I'll see a dancer that kind of reminds me of an old girlfriend or some girl I liked. Even if you now hate the ex-girlfriend, there is something about that dancer. She doesn't know it, but she has a leg up on the competition. 13. There is a weird feeling when you enter the club. It really is a different world. A minute ago, I was outside stuck in traffic. Now, I'm in a place where it is OK to lustfully look at women, where women walk around damn near half naked (and get fully naked), where grabbing your dick is as common as a hand shake, where it's never day time, even when its day time; where women wear thong bikinis in winter, where clear platform heels are not just acceptable, they are the norm, where girls who you feel would never approach you in real life, do a hell of a lot more than just approach you. And somehow all of these things that run contrary to everything outside of that dark door, consistently/repeatedly exist within this space. You spend your time in this world, for as long as your allowable time and/or money can take you. Then you walk back outside. Sometimes into the daylight, that didn't exist inside. Back out into the real world, with its real traffic, cold stares, nagging girlfriends or wives, soft music, the lack of pink/purple neon, and women in clothing for their pleasure/comfort, not yours. Away from the fake love, and back out into the real world. But fake love feels good, where the real world often does not.