Ok... Imagine this set to the tune of Gilligan's Island...
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale...a tale of a "Friday night" ( fateful trip).
It all started with a six hour shift...( three hour tour)
If not for the DJ the club would be lost (if not for Gilligan the minnow would be lost)
Tonight was the sort of night that brings to mind Gilligan's island where everyone comes to the island but Gilligan and his crew never get off....the customers were the visitors and us the poor strippers were the crew of Gilligan"s Island.
Imagine over 21 pissed off strippers dancing for the deadest bunch of people outside of a morgue. Only the morgue has attendants to keep the dead folks moving out to their kinfolk for burial.
O my God, I swear when the highest dancer on the books only gets 4 (!!!!!) dances it is a seriously I wanna cry sort of night.
Our manager from dayshift deposited all the $1's in the whole fucking building in his deposit this afternoon. The ATM decided 1045 was the perfect time to stop running.
Then the Bass speakers went out near midnight jussssttttt when we got something resembling living people with money in the club.
Then, someone in the crowd making a (bad, real bad joke) decided to enact his whigger fantasy of a rap video, ran his credit card down the ass crack of my best friend while she was trying to dance on stage and get a tip from him at the rail.....blood started pouring immediately from the credit card that CUT her butt crack. She jumped up and decked his ass out flat. One stellar right hook to his nose area and he crumpled to the floor. It was a hallmark moment. We cheered. she now has 3 lovely black stitches in her butt crack.
Tonight was so bad, I feel a real bad case of "anal blindness" coming on for tomorrow night.
Anal blindness= "I don't see my ass going in to work"



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Sounds like it was the night from hell. I hope your next shift is better.



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