I think I am in love with a girl who dances at the local, "Gentleman's Club!"

lol ... you'll see

Strippers see drama all the time. This shit get them hooked to a 110 mph life. They wanna live on the edge no matter what they fucking say... even if they say they do it for their child, fuck that, that's bull 99.9 of the time.

you must be young lol

Are you saying, Dr. Dre . . . that they lie? They don't say why they really need the money????

quit your day job and start to sell coke and snorting alot of it also, this way you guys will find 2 things in common, and as long as you keep giving her free coke you will have her for life!

she will never leave you!

i say DO IT

They lie to themselves about a lot of things in the first place... that's the main problem... and that's what I'm saying ;)

Nothing wrong with strippers.

they treat dudes like shit , cause they have to deal with the assholes all night trying to hustle them to get in their pants, lie to them about who they are, and say the stupidest shit to them when they are drunk.

anybody NORMAL would have the same attitude that " strippers" have toward men if they had to deal with that bullshit al the time too.

get to know the person inside and if it is good then you have a winner , regardless of the job she does. If you want to tell her how to make her money and what work to do or not do, then you better be prepared to pay all the bills ( are you ?) if not then what she does for money is up to her, if it is a problem for you that she does it then dont get to emoptionally attached cause you will lose.

Could be fun to find out. Could be dangerous.

Yeh, contrary to what most people think, cocktail waitresses and strippers at clubs will go out on real non-paid dates with customers.

But many of them are flighty and flaky when you get to know them outside of the club.

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/33584

I Think That Stripper Really Liked Me

By Frank Voss
May 6, 1998 | Issue 33?17
Frank Voss

I know what you're going to say when I tell you this, but I think that stripper down at The Kitten Klub really liked me. The little red-haired one, Kandi. I don't know what it was, but we just seemed to have this... connection.

From the moment I sat down, there was a powerful chemistry between us. I could tell by the way she looked me right in the eye. It was the kind of look that conveyed an understanding between a man and a woman. Eye contact can be a very primal thing.

I could also tell she liked me by all the time she spent dancing in front of me. She could have done her splits and backbends facing any guy in the place, but she almost always did them facing me. And when she crawled up the brass pole, she usually used the one right near me.

I know, I know. You're thinking she was just being nice to me for the tips. But it wasn't like that. You see, whenever she looked at me and smiled, I could sense it was a real human moment. Kandi, she's not like the other girls at The Kitten Klub. For one thing, she's obviously had formal dance training. More importantly, though, she's got a down-to-earth quality about her. A vulnerability, an innocence, almost. I think she could tell I really understood her.

Kandi also really responded to the way I slipped her the money. Unlike some guys, who shove the cash right down the front of the G-string, I make a point of showing respect for the girls by tucking the bills in the side, near the hip. Believe me, the girls notice that.

In case you still doubt there was something special between me and Kandi, let me tell you that when her stage show was over, she came over to my table. I was flattered, really, especially when she asked my name. I told her it was Frank. And you know what? She remembered. We must have talked for at least 20 minutes, and she used my name a lot.

She also winked at me a lot. Whenever I said something funny, she would just laugh and wink. It sounds strange, but she had a kind of shy quality about her. I think she's probably a very private person in her regular life, a very sweet and loving person, not like you usually think of strippers.

At one point in our conversation, I told Kandi I didn't smoke or drink. She smiled, and her eyes got really big, and she said she didn't either. We really made a connection there. She said drinking is nasty and makes her feel unhealthy. I knew just what she meant. So many exotic dancers are into drugs or are problem drinkers, and it's nice to meet one who's concerned about her health like me.

Of course, it couldn't last. The management of The Kitten Klub doesn't like deadbeats, and, somehow, I'd gone through all my money by about 11 p.m. Kandi was really sad I had to go. She said she had to work all night, and she couldn't go out afterwards because she had to study. (She's dancing to put herself through med school.) But she told me when she'd be dancing next and said I should come back and spend time with her whenever she's working.

I can't wait until next Wednesday.

K, take it from someone with a lot of experiencein this area. Most of em are very fucked in the head and heart, but there are always some that can be awesome. Really the thing is is this. Find one that is the same amount of fucked up in the head that you are, likes the things that you do and is interested in the things you do. If they don't meet all that it won't be worth much.

This story makes me laugh because anyone who's ever dated a stripper knows its true!

So you want to date a stripper?
by Greg Bruns

So you got a stripper's phone number, huh? Called her up and chatted about this and that and had a nice little conversation with her, huh? What's her name? Cinnamon? Going out with her for lunch on Saturday, eh? Very Nice. Here are a few tips ? because dating a stripper is a hazardous affair and the only thing you're going to get out of this insane ride are bragging rights for the rest of your life. This article is based on information gleaned from my brief stay in Stripperville.

First of all, you've got to have a destination in mind before you embark on this venture. What do you want from the Stripper? A few fun evenings out on the town with a little hottie on your arm? Sex? Free passes to the Titty Bar where you met her? Everlasting true love? Handjob? Look ? walking into this without a goal is certain means for failure, because she operates on her own terms and if you let her manipulate you and lead the show, you're sunk. She meets 50 guys a night who are potential dates, so she's just playing the odds with you. She's thinking she just might meet someone who can handle her, but no one can. Trust me. No one can handle her. You'll never change her or pull her out of Stripperville. Remember that and keep your eyes on the prize.

Several points to consider:

1. You're not Special.

You're one of 18 guys she's juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. It's her job to make guys feel like they're the only one she's interested in. She gets paid handsomely for that skill. That sultry stare she's giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they're six months behind on child support.

2. She makes more money than you. Get used to it.

Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). She's ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn't expect her to pay for anything. It's not in her nature. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she'll claim she's never done, but the other girls at the club have ? right ? she's done it at least once).

3. If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you're in for a hurricane of pain.

Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand "friends" calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. Her apartment is littered with soggy G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, along with empty tubes of body glitter, mascara, prescription drugs, zit cream, Aqua Net and Polaroid pictures of her and her "friends" engaged in some drinking and dancing on St. Patrick's Day last year. The Polaroid pictures of her and her stripper friends getting nasty for the entire bar are still circulating around town because one of the guys she dated last month stole them out of her nightstand when he sensed the end was near and he wasn't going to be getting any more Cinnamon Love.

3. She has more guy friends than you had all throughout high school and college, collectively.

Sometimes they'll just drop in when you two are hanging out and you're thinking it might get romantic. The guy friend will ask her ? right in front of you ? if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge and she'll look at you with bright eyes and say, "Yeah ? let's go to Happy Hour with Tim here ? it'll be fun!" And you, still gripping on to that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes and you'll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she's the most popular girl in the bar and every person with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon that is blazing through Stripperville at a very unsafe speed.

All of those "guy friends" started out just like you, chief. They saw the Promised Titty Land and thought they could get there, too. Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to "friends." They could've bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit. You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation.

4. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random.

This stimulates her sub-par self-esteem. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy's crotch rocket. By 1pm she's already at some different guy's house, swimming naked in the pool with him and his Great Dane named Robo. By 5pm she's doing "X" at some other guy's house, and from there she goes home for the five-minute shower and gets ready for work.

5. She'll blow you off for three dates in a row.

When you keep calling, she knows she has you. That Saturday night dinner and special room you've secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she's going to Mexico with some of her "friends." Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you'll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you're scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.

It's a crazy affair, for sure, but just remember these do's and don'ts and you'll be fine:

DON'T ever call her and not announce your name. Her phone rings more than all of the lines at the New York Times combined. Don't put her in the precarious position of trying to guess your name. "Is it Steve? Rick? Mike? Dave? Javier? Justin? Michael? Chris? Matt? Juan? Adam? Alex? Roberto? Ed? Brian? Eugene? Tim?" She'll make it quite clear that she has many suitors, which excites her to no end, and puts you in a bottle of bourbon all alone by 9pm that night. Try to sound upbeat: "Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just walking through Tiffany's, looking at a $900 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you." (She smokes. They all smoke. She'd gush over an ashtray from Tiffany's. Don't buy it, though. Make her think you would've bought it for her, if only there was a rose engraved on it.)

DON'T ask her about her fucking tattoos unless you want to look like one of her customers.

DON'T go see her at her job unless it's absolutely necessary. A necessity would be getting her condo key so you can go feed her cat. If you get to that point, FYI, you're now one of her "friends," and you can wrap up the sexual fantasies you have of her by beating off right on her pillow after you throw the cat some Meow Mix.

DON'T try to keep up with her. Don't skip work to spend the day with her. She works nights and you work days. Keep your job. Her days are spent at tanning booths, Frederick's of Hollywood and chic outdoor cafés where her and her stripper "friends" eat poached salmon salads with dressing on the side.

DO carry lots of hundreds in a money clip. Make sure she sees you strip off the bills when the dinner check comes. Or better yet, whip out the Corporate Amex and toss it on the table like you're folding a bad poker hand. Clasp your hands behind your head and lean back into your chair after you make the Amex toss, as if to say, "See that? Unlimited credit, baby."

DO kiss her on the cheek when she shows up at your place for the nice dinner you're going to cook her, and knock her fishnets off with your ability to handle the cuisine and wine. At some early point in the evening though, you're going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do. Pull the battery or she's going to get some call at midnight, when you've got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you're about to "storm the beach." This call will undoubtedly be from one of her "friends" who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she'll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, "Let's go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin!"

DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U.K. "Quadrophenia" Tour. They're a bad lot to hang out with, because there's so much freedom and money in Stripperville. They've got it all and they don't need you or anyone else. All they need is their Xanax and Raspberry Stoli on the rocks and their job. Yeah ? the job. That's what fuels the lifestyle and you're never going to pry her from it. Don't even suggest it.

If your goal from the aforementioned list is "sex," you need to understand that it's going to take at least five dates. At least. Figure $250 per date. Compound that and it's a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment. While that fine body, devoid of tan lines, might fuel you to the fifth date, I'd recommend looking into escort services in your area. With an escort, you're getting what you want right off the bat, and it'll likely cost you half of what Cinnamon is charging.

Good luck in Stripperville. It'll be a short stay, but something you'll talk about for years to come.

Lots of unhealthy attitudes towards the female sex workers in the adult industry..

My only conclusion is that the smart girls that are stripping are the ones you wont meet or hook up with, they are the ones that are there to make money and go home..not socialize with some loser trying to get laid. You guys must be attracted to or meeting the girls who use stripping as a lifestyle...so I guess I can see where you men are so fucking jaded and feel the need to be hypocritical.

So what is the difference between all these little internet teenies you fucks are fawning over at conventions/parties/ gfy and girls in the strip clubs? Can you imagine if you told all these girls you guys are exploiting online how you really feel..

I concur!

Good shit, I'd hit it!

You're not alone:

http://www.pablofrancisco.com/video/strippers.rm

Danni Ashe.. ex stripper ...she is more successful than all you shit talking fags combined

Need I say more fellas?

I would understand if it's her

Hmm.. Me thinks you could have left off the shy part..

If you really like the stripper then give it a shot. See if you can win her heart and know if it's really love you are talking about or you just plainly attracted to her.

Who's this chick btw?