
Wow, I felt foolish as this Gabrielle Union look-alike sat beside Danny and told him how much he "looked like Brad Pitt." I don't get jealous in these situations, or even "hate" as some people might say, but I immediately wanted to blurt out: "Hey Girl, he is married and has two kids. Not only that he listens to Rush Limbaugh and is a big George Bush supporter" I even thought about lying by saying, "He used to be a member of the clan, who burned over a thousand crosses in peoples yards. The only reason we are hanging out is so he can get used to hanging with non-whites!" I quickly snapped out of "hate" mode and sat there as she asked me questions, inviting me to her Danny "courting" session. Surprisingly, Danny immediately tells her that he is married which didn't really work since this beautiful girl, during the course of our time there, flashed him her tits a few times saying that his union with his wife didn't matter to her. Even though I like seeing breasts like every other scumbag of the male species, I knew we had to get out of there before Danny one day recalls a story about a "fine ass black girl that he fucked in front of a bar once." As we were leaving, and it was clear to her that Danny wasn't falling for her advances, she inquires about me and my relationship status. I have to admit, I got an immediate "chubby" just thinking about giving this girl the most premium 2 minutes of her life, but then I decided against it. It felt like being someones second choice when asked to the prom, or being picked for a basketball team solely because you are the only person left. I refused, but in total nerd fashion I gave her my blog address. So if she is reading this I have a message for her: "You have great breasts, and my boy looks nothing like Brad Pitt!"(He actually looks like a tattoo covered Edward Norton. She must of just seen "Fight Club" and got her actors confused)
From "Red Star" we go to this strip club called "L.A's" about 2 miles down the road. I know that I have talked negatively about strip clubs,(here and here) but after seeing a beautiful "pair", I was inspired to see even more lovely mounds of flesh. We walk in, have a few more drinks, and one thing becomes shockingly apparent. We noticed that the staff was mostly Russian, one of the bar tenders, one of the dancers, and 4 of the waitresses. I leaned over to my boy Danny and say, "Maybe I'm being stereotypical, but whenever I see a American owned bar and most of the staff is Russian, I tend to think some illegal slave trade shit is going on!" I guess I speak louder than I thought because the doorman(also Russian, which makes 7 by the way) comes over to me and politely asks me outside. I agree, and as we stand outside he tells me that he would appreciate it if I didn't say such things because he wouldn't want his clientele thinking the strip club wasn't on the "up and up." I say, "OK, whatever man" and as we return inside the club he pats my shoulder and says, "As long as we understand each other" which was his way of subtle intimidation. I sit beside Danny and loudly say, "Yep, I told you some illegal Russian mob shit was going on here!" as I wave at the doorman that I had just talked to.
Over the course of our time there I was giving many of my George Washington's to a beautiful sister who was on stage shaking her ass something fierce. She didn't say anything to me, but smiled when I kept saying stupid drunken shit like "I want to marry you girl!" or "Wanna be my future ex-girlfriend??" Minutes later after she stopped dancing she sat beside me at the bar. The first thing I said to her was, "What is up with all these Russian chicks?" She smiled and said, "I am Russian too!" I know that there are black Russians, but when you haven't experienced things first hand it can take you aback somewhat. We chatted a few minutes, where she expressed to me that she really wanted a boyfriend. She went on and on about her desire to have a boyfriend. Did I mention how much she wanted a boyfriend? As soon as I got the hint she handed me her number for me to call her as soon as I could.
As we were leaving, thinking about how I probably wasn't going to call "Ms. Black Russia", I also thought about how I once dated a stripper and how much of a disaster it was. Reasons: 1:You get tired of her paying everything from rent, meals, and her car note in 1's 2:If you are insecure, like I have been known to be, I would always be thinking that she was fucking somebody 3:If you have the balls enough to visit her while she is "working", you get sick watching her flirt with a plethora of losers just to get tips and 4:Getting glitter out of your linen is a motherfucker! The absolute deal breaker is when I caught her scratching herself in her nether region during the course of our conversation. I don't know about you, but a woman with a "vaginal itch" isn't really a selling point.