Devon Hunter

I am certain that I’m one of the Goddess’s most aggravating children. But I also think that She rolls her eyes affectionately as She huffs about me. I’m taking the night off. I can’t work right now. I did okay last night (a very bizarre night), and my costs are covered. I’ll go to Columbia this weekend with a respectable little “bonus” to go on top of whatever I make Friday and Saturday.

So, although there were only nine dancers at Swinging Richards last night (the lowest I’ve personally ever seen), there were also about that many patrons. I was offered a drink, something I normally don’t accept; however, after the last two weeks I was very annoyed that I’d driven all the way from Charlotte to Atlanta for such a lousy showing. Somehow I still generated a respectable piece of change. The problem is that I can’t account for half of it.

I know I did one chair dance that lasted two songs. A man tipped me a $20 on stage. I had one man get half a lap dance, but pay for three, and therefore the balance is whatever else I made on stage. It seems like an impossibly high number of $1 bills for so few tippers. I drank waaaay more than I normally do, and it really didn’t do anything except make me skip around an empty bar, singing to the Pussy Cat Dolls, Chingy, and T-Pain. Not pretty. I also told the manager (yes, The Matt) that I was tired of waiting for him to make love to me by a roaring fire, and then demanded a napkin and a lighter to simulate the effect during a quick boink. God! Stupid.

The reason I need the night off is the half-lapdance that paid for three. This has never, in all my time doing this, happened to me: He started crying. Real tears. They were rolling down his face. One fell off his cheek and splattered lightly on my navel. I thought I’d hurt him in some unknown way.

He was weeping and sobbing. I was drunk, but not completely out of my wits. He told me how it hurt him that the only way he could touch a beautiful man was to pay for it. That took me completely aback. I’ve run into this conversation before, but not with tears hitting my bellybutton, and not while I was drunk and still feeling raw about my own situation.

I made the only choice I could think of: I gave him his $20 back, and I gave him a hug. I told him something along the lines that if someone doesn’t want him for who he is, then he doesn’t need them. Something trite that sounds completely insincere today. I definitely didn’t intend to hurt his feelings. In my inebriation, this was all I could think to do. I don’t understand why, but he insisted on paying me for a dance I hadn’t even done, and then tipped me heavily. I just took it. I’m not in the mindset right now to debate these things.

Anyway, something about that entire interaction has piled on top of everything else, and I just don’t feel like being touched today. I want to be left alone, so that I can watch TV, or read, or fall asleep, or anything but entertain someone else right now.

I’m sorry that my postings have been so dark this week. I will return to form soon. I can already feel the light trying to break through the clouds. Give me a day or so, and I’ll be back to me. I may take a few days off from blogging, but when I come back my mood will be better. Promise.