Loser Goes To Strip Club For The First Time

So I was sitting at the station last night, with my brother and a buddy of ours when Doug, another friend of ours, came by to hang out with us while we finished our shift. He was talking about going to a bar and drinking. Now, I rarely get out but for some reason I still can't comprehend, I decided to talk Doug into taking me to Diamonds & Laces in Chattanooga, Tennessee. So we go.

We arrive, and I'm nervous as shit. I begin to believe this is a bad idea before we even go in. I soldier on, however, on the sole reason that I might have a funny story to tell, even though it would surely be at my expense. And, it was.

We go in, sit down at the bar. A thick black chick is furiously shaking her ass two feet from the face of a dude that looked like he came straight out of a rap video. He was bobbing his head, almost in rhythm with her ass. We order a pitcher of beer. It is now important to remember in this story that Im not normally a beer drinker- I'm a mixed drink and liquor fanatic. I hate beer. I down half my glass, when another black stripper comes over, and starts talking to my friend. Thirty seconds later, she turns to me, and squeezes in between me and Doug. He scoots down. I begin assuming I've been set up.

*Stripper rubs my leg, my arm, runs hand up my shirt sleeve*

Stripper: Hey baby, how you doin'?

Me: I'm ok. I'm trying to get drunk. You might wanna talk to my buddy though. Im cool for now.

Stripper: Why? Whats the matter honey? You don't like me?

Me: You're ok. Id just rather drink.

*At this point, Im fucking tripping balls. I'm nervous, out of my element, and her face is staring right into mine. Her arm is still snaking up and down my arm. I decide that my low self esteem may come in handy for once, so I start trying to insult my self into her leaving me alone.*

Stripper: So what do you do for fun?

Me: Nothing. I sit at home, and stare at the walls. I don't get out alot.

Stripper: Aw, why not?

Me: Im a loser.

*Im thinking I may just get out of this with that exchange. I am wrong.*

Stripper: I dont think you're a loser. I think you're cute. I like me a nice big man.

*I begin to sense this is going to be harder than I thought*

Me: Trust me, Im boring. But my buddies not getting any attention. Why dont you give him some?

Stripper: I like you..and Id like to get to know you.

*Sidenote, I have been steadily drinking the pitcher by myself the entire time because of my nervousness. I am also chainsmoking. I reach for my cigarettes. Grab my lighter. She takes it from me. I briefly am under the impression she is going to steal it. Instead, she gives me a semi sultry look, and lights it for me.*

Me: Look, to be honest, Im overwhelmed here, and uncomfortable.

Stripper: Well, let me make you comfortable. You wanna go with me? 10 minutes for 2-0. (I assume its 20 dollars for a ten minute dance, but I never intended to find out so truthfully I dont know)

Me: No, Im cool.....hey, what did my friend say to you?

Stripper: He said you were new, and needed attention.

*I now realize my suspicions were correct. He has thrown me to the fucking wolves. Prick.*

Me: Well, look, im really not up for this.

Stripper: Well...ok...but I am being sincere. You really are a nice looking man and dont let anyone tell you different.

*I think, yeah right bitch. You just want my money. She gives me one last smile, then walks off*

I turn to doug.

Me: You're a fucking asshole. I want to go.

Doug: HAHAHAHAHAH! THATS GREAT!

Me: Fuck you.

So, moral of the story: I hate women more than ever now, because it struck me that I have to pay if I want to get a chick naked or to talk to me, and I'm suprisingly resilient enough to not give in to that. I literally felt exploited, oddly enough, as you'd think the ladies were the ones getting the shaft. Not so. They are there to make a living off desperate loners like me. Fuck them.