I was sitting with two Russian guys who spoke in thick accents, and the one who proposed to me spent the whole night trying to convince me he was an undercover FBI agent visiting from New York.He told me his name and number and the number of his branch or whatever, and said that if i call and ask for him, they will confirm that he exists.
Okay, way to totally reveal your "undercover" status to a random stripper.
And then, about an hour I seemed to finally believe him, he called me over to their table and asked me to fetch him a line of cocaine.
Oh, ok, MISTER FBI.
After i laughed at him, I saw that he was pretty serious. Oh my god, he must think im so stupid. Or he is just so stupid.
I told him it wasn't allowed, and I never saw anyone with cocaine at our club anyway (which is true), and he told me I was bullshitting him and "come on beby just go ask the other girls, if you get some, we can split it"



He told me his name and number and the number of his branch or whatever, and said that if i call and ask for him, they will confirm that he exists.
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