Lucky Old Me

Last night I told myself, and my customers, that I was feeling lucky.  It seemed to work!

At 2am I thought I was only going home with £100 but by the end of my shift I was going home with £244.  Yes! Best night in a long time.  It was all down to some good businessmen with more money than sense.  One took me for three quarters of an hour (costing him £180) just to chat, although he did want to grope my boobs and expected a kiss on the lips at the end. No, I am not going to kiss you, idiot.

Other than that he was quite entertaining.  He kept talking about how he was getting old (he was in his 50s) and how old people aren’t allowed to dance in the eyes of the young.  He said he didn’t care and would dance on his own in the corner, like so many sad old weirdos I’ve seen on a night out.

I do wonder how old I’ll be when it’ll be no longer socially acceptable for me to dance (not that stripping is socially acceptable anyway!) When I’m 30-something maybe? Unless I’m looking really good.

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