Friday night, I had a few glasses of wine at work. This is not a big deal, because I can drink wine all night and still function. Funny thing is, the 3rd glass was sort of forced on my be a new regular. I didn't really want it, he just bought it for me. He had it waiting for me when I came out of the dressing room. (Yes, I know I should not have drunk it.)
A little bit later, I was feeling pretty buzzed. Then I got ripped off for a couple of dances. The dollar amount was only like $20. I had done four dances for him ($10 each) and he tried to pay me only $20. It is against club rules to stack up dances like that; we are supposed to collect after every dance. I know that, but of course it's easier to sell multiple dances when you don't have to break the spell after every dance. We all stack up the dances and collect at the end, and when we get ripped off we all know to keep our mouths shut.
So I normally would have taken it at a loss and walked away, but for some reason I went ballistic. I was screaming at the customer and scratching him and actually dug my nails into his face and Literally attempted to rip his face off for $20! (I really thought if I pulled hard enough, the face would come off in my hands. I have no idea what I would have done with it!) Another customer, who I know well, came over and tried to help me resolve the problem, and when he saw it was pointless to continue, he tried to get me to give up, but I was just unshakable. The result is, I got fired.
It occurred me later that that reaction was so uncharacteristic for me. Normally, I would accept the risk I had taken, and walk away with my $20, then get my revenge by warning all the other dancers not to dance for that guy. I would never have become that violent, and I certainly never would have jeopardized my job. After I got fired, I scrammed and bawled in the dressing room for at least half an hour, then I went to eat and kill some time because I knew I could never drive home in the condition I was in. I was absolutely incoherent and just kept saying my son's name over and over again, along with the occasional comment about how was I going to feed him. Completely blitzed on 3 glasses of wine.
I did go to another club down the street where I have worked, and in the confusion I got in and earned another $100 while I sobered up a little, but I had the jitters all night. I felt weird and shaky for hours afterward and even well into the next morning.
There is a guy in the O'Hare airport area who has been drugging dancers' drinks intermittently for years. Several people think they know who it is, but of course nobody can prove it. I wonder if I could have been drugged, and if this is the guy.



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I DEFINATELY need to be more careful, myself!





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