“Quarterback” JT

I saw a group of businessmen, two white men and one Asian man, buy a corner booth, so I went over to try and pull one for a dance. A white guy with a mop of brown hair and a black button down addressed me:

Him: Hey sweetie, we just got here. Give us half an hour to talk business, then we’ll be ready for fun time.

Me: Okay.

I walked away. “Why come to the strip club to talk business?” I wondered in passing. The club was full of lurkers, men who sit and watch, Maybe tip a few dollars on stage. I went up nearly every man putting about and received a slew of “maybe later’s.”

I kept an eye on the homosocial conference, since I hadn’t had any luck elsewhere. After a while it seemed like the business portion was complete. I watched the group fraction off. One guy, a tall large bellied white man with gray hair and a polo, went upstairs with Emily. The white guy with brown hair who had addressed me earlier was now sitting by the stage, tipping dancers while the Asian guy was slumped in the booth texting. I was next on stage, so I did my dance and focused my attention on the brunette.

Me: Hey there 😉

Him: You must workout a lot, because you’re very strong! Such a tight body.

Me: Thanks. What’s your name?

Him: JT. People call me JT, but my name is Jeremy.

Me: Pleasure, JT. I’m Selena.

Him: Here’s the deal, Selena. I’m here for business. My friend and I are trying to woo this investor. He’s with Microsoft.

Me: Wow Microsoft. Which one is your friend?

He pointed to the pot bellied white man.

Me: So the Asian guy is your investor?

Him: Exactly. He’s Michael and my friend is Byron. I’m gonna need some time to work that out. I gotta keep him happy, having a good time. I don’t know how long that will take, but afterwards, come by, have a drink, and I’ll definitely get a few dances from you.

Me: Sounds like a plan. Nice to meet you, JT.

I exited the stage and grabbed a water bottle while I surveyed the scene. Angelina had Michael by hand and was pulling him over to the register. I made a beeline for Jeremy.

Me: Looks like he’s getting a dance with her.

Him: I’m not ready yet.

Me: I didn’t ask you for anything yet. I was simply pointing out that your client appears to be buying a dance.

I’d expected the two to walk off to one of the dance rooms, but instead of completing the purchase, Michael and Angelina paused at the register, then split ways. The investor returned to the table.

Me: Shoot. I wonder why he didn’t go with her. She’s hot.

Him: Come back a little later, I gotta talk to him.

Me: Fine.

I came back after I watched Cherry drag the investor upstairs for a Skybox. I will say this violates my general rule that you should not follow up after a “come back later” because it usually means “I’m just here to waste your time;” however my night was already pretty rough. My ratio of no’s to yes’s was not in my favor, so I decided I might as well try again.

Him: Perfect timing. What kind of drink do you want? We’ve got vodka, Red Bull, soda water. When Camila comes back you can order what you want and I’ll get you a fresh cup with ice.

Me: My friend took him. I knew it. I love matching people. We should go for a Skybox too.

Him: Not now. I can’t leave the booth like this. I have to stay. I can’t just get up and leave him. What would he think if he came back we were just gone, who knows where?

Me: He’s off having a good time. I think you can have some fun now too.

Him: Look. We’re hanging, partying, getting drunk, and I’m gonna be honest with you, okay? Is that okay?

I nodded.

Him: Doing cocaine. We’ve been doing cocaine. And I know, you may think, “this guy is a jackass like the rest of these jackasses,” but I promise I’m not normally like this. We wine and dine potential clients. Think of me like the quarterback of this operation. It may not seem like it, but I’m keeping this meeting together. That other guy, my friend Byron, he’s the owner of the business. I’m here to keep the client happy. That’s my job.

Me: You’re the quarterback. Got it.

Him: I’m gonna be honest with you, don’t take this the wrong way.

Me: What?

Him: It’s honestly a compliment when you think about it, but I’m afraid you’re too young for me.

I’d expected a much worse revelation, like maybe he had surveyed the whole room of baddies and he was no longer interested; or maybe he just didn’t find black girls attractive; or possibly he was only here for sex and would accept nothing less. I laughed.

Me: I’m twenty-six.

Him: Really? Because I thought you were twenty-one. I’m not interested in girls. They do nothing for me. I’m interested in women, twenty-five plus or I can’t do it. You look so young.

Me: But I’m definitely twenty-six. I could rattle off the year I was born if that helps.

Him: Take it as a compliment. But I can see you’re wise for your age.

Me: Yep. You should take me for some dances.

Him: Listen, I gotta tell you something...

He looked around as if to make sure nobody might be listening in on his special truth.

Him: Don’t take it the wrong way.

Me: Spit it out.

Him: It may look like I’m Mr. Moneybags. You see us all here, in the booth, with all this.

He indicates the array of glasses containing various mixers and water bottles filled with vodka.

Him: Drinking, doing cocaine, talking business, and you may think, “oh he’s gonna spend 2x, 5x on having a good time.” All these girls come around and try to sell me a dance for 2x, 5x the normal price. Try to clean me out. But I’m not gonna spend like that.

Me: I’m not gonna do that.

Him: I’m gonna be straight with you: I’m a college professor. That’s my day job. I do this consulting on the side sometimes. We wine and dine potential clients. That guy over there? He’s with Microsoft.

Me: I know, you told me.

Him: Oh, you’re already ahead of me. You must think, “this guy keeps going on and on and I don’t care.” Point is, we need him happy. He indicated that he wanted to “go wild,” that’s why we got the cocaine. I don’t do cocaine more than once or twice a year. But we do what he wants to get the business.

Me: Well, he’s busy now.

Him: We can’t just come off as a couple of guys who run off and leave our client alone sitting at a table with all this!

Me: The guy already left. Byron is off somewhere with some girl. I think you’re allowed to chill now.

Him: That’s not good. Why don’t you just sit down and have some fun, enjoy a drink with me?

Me: No. I don’t enjoy drinking.

Him: What?! C’mon have some fun, you should have fun at work.

Me: Drinking isn’t fun to me. I don’t drink at work unless I’m getting paid for it.

Him: Drinking is fun. Are you upset at me?

Me: You said to come back and drink with you, and then you would get some dances with me.

Him: I can understand that. I understand, I’m a businessman. I know your time is money. If you need to go around, talk to other people and get dances, I understand.

Me: I would rather just dance with you. Take me for a five set.

Him: A five? How much is that?

Me: $210 for a five. $136 for a three.

Him: How much for three?

Me: $136

Him: $130?

Me: $136

Him: $133?

Me: $136

He wasn’t trying to bargain with me, he was just too drunk and high to follow his own train of thought. He squinted with a puzzled expression on his face.

Him: That’s $42 per song?

Me: Um.

I paused. I’m not great at mental math but I knew he was wrong.

Me: I don’t think so. It’s about $45 per song.

Him: Oh well. I’ve wasted enough of your time. Three songs.

Me: Fine.

He bought the three-set. Afterwards I told him to tip me $40.

Him: Alright alright, but come over and sit with me and have a drink.

Me: Fine.

I followed him and stood beside the booth waiting.

Him: Sit down.

Me: Tip me first.

He gazed up at me pursing his brow.

Him: You’re right, you earned it. That dance was... very good.

He reached into his back pockets, then his front pockets trying to find two $20’s.

Him: You’re very aggressive, but I respect that. I want you to know something. C’mon, sit down a second. Here you go.

I took the money. I knew I could leave and I was entitled to do so, but I didn’t, against my better judgment.

Him: Just one moment. I just wanted to say you’re smart, and beautiful, and obviously talented. One piece of advice: don’t just let yourself get along with your looks. Some people, I’m not saying you, just go through life surviving off their looks.

Me: Okay. Thanks.

Him: Wait wait wait! Just a second. Save your money. I know it’s easy. You work an easy job and you get all this easy money and you wanna spend it all on clothes, but save your money.

This fucking moron. If only I’d considered in my tiny pea brain that I should just save my “easy money” from my “easy job.”

Me: I’m gonna go now.

Him: Please no.

Me: Bye.