If you go to strip clubs but no dancer considers you her ‘regular’, you’re missing out on most of what a good club experience offers. It’s like being a fan of music but never going to a concert, or being a fan of a football team but only watching them by yourself at home on TV — Yeah, sure, you can have a good time alone, but …
I love being a regular. It means that I always have someone who will be glad to see me as soon as I enter the door — In my case, my particular someone comes squealing, at high pitch and high speed, across the room and leaps into my arms, burying my face between her ample breasts. Every. Damn. Time. I enter the room. Totally not kidding.
It also means being able to skip the hustle bullshit — She knows why I’m there and already knows what I like. In turn, I’m there to spend money on her and if another dancer gets any of my money, it’s with either her implied or implicit permission — sometimes a friend of hers, sometimes a new girl she wants to see do well. Otherwise, we are there for each other: She makes every customer in the room want to know what my secret is, and in turn I try to make every dancer wish they were her. I especially love tip wars — Every now and then, some random dude will think that throwing a few extra bucks at my friend will take her away from my table. I just smile, walk to the stage, and …
Gently, caressingly, whispering things that only she can hear, I’ll cover her from neck to knees in bills as she lays spread on the stage in front of me. Then she’ll rise through the layer of money, seemingly not caring where it falls, wrap her arms around me and kiss me, embracing me with an intensity that speaks of much more than a casual relationship. At last we’ll part, and I’ll give the other guy a smug grin as I return to my table, awaiting the end of her set when she’ll be back in my arms.
Yep, I love being a regular. I’ve had about a dozen or so strippers consider me so over the years; though about half of those, if asked, would simply refer to me as “friend”, rather than anything that signified me being a customer. Together, they’ve made my life worth living over the years, dancing to every song I like, making me feel like the king of the world every time I’m in the club, and spending countless hours taking my breath away and giving me memories that will last a lifetime.
I’ve spent a lot of money on them over the years, but not nearly enough to cover the attention and real affection they’ve shown me. I once had a dancer simply shrug off the time limit that I had paid for in a VIP room, staying in there with me for hours longer; then, dismissed any suggestion that I owed her anything more. I don’t know what it would take to get my beloved Nyxie to leave my side while I’m in the club, but no other customer has been able to make a sufficient offer yet in the six years I’ve known her. Please don’t read that to suggest that there’s anything extraordinary about me — Rather, it has been my very real blessing in life to be befriended by the most extraordinary ladies that I could ever hope to meet.
That’s what being a regular has meant to me. Sit there with your beer, by yourself, watching the show and waving off the ladies who ask if you’d like some company, if that’s what you want to do; but take it from me: You’ll never know what you’re missing.