1 hat, 2 shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 belt, 1 pair of swimming trunks, 4 underwear (one of which has pizza slices all over!) and Justin got himself this $400 watch that actually operates off of body movement and doesn't need a battery. I was a bit jelly, but hey, I'm not spending that much on a damn watch. Not when my Mickey Mouse one still works.
After all that, we thought it would be fun to go someplace classy and have ourselves a couple of beers. So, yeah. That meant Saint Pete's.
We stayed for three dances, and the place was pathetically empty. At the most, there was maybe four other people there.
This stripper named "Antonia" hit the stage, and I believe my old buddy was smitten by her, but too shy to toss any loonies. I didn't want to toss any myself, but he handed over ten bucks worth and told me to give it a shot.
It was easy. I got all of them except for two. It certainly helped that I was only about five feet away from the target. Justin dared me to get her phone number, so as she was handing over the poster and fridge magnet that I "won", I asked her to come by our table for an autograph.
Justin thought what she wrote on there was hilarious, since earlier in our shopping excursion, I dared him to go up to a girl that he was drooling over, and asked if she would sit on his face. I even offered up a hundred bucks for him to do it. Nope. Didn't happen. Apparently he would do it for $500, but I'm not that much of an idiot. Haha.
So, "Antonia" comes to our table, and I asked her to sign the poster with her phone number, like Justin dared, and it didn't happen either. Oh well. I suppose the reason he dared me was because the last time we went to see strippers a few years ago, I managed to get one of their numbers, and he was suitably impressed. Sadly, my enthusiasm in getting digits, had me texting her as soon as I left the place, and she probably thought I was a weirdo, since several texts later had me being ignored. I still kick myself for that sometimes.
Antonia sat down and chatted with us for a while. I drilled her with questions, and found out she was 36 (wow), from Romania, has been having a hard time lately with finding work. I managed to get out the details of how much she gets paid, and it wasn't as much as I thought it would be. Seems that these girls get paid around fifty bucks per dance (on stage), gets to keep their tips (she got a whopping 12 bucks from us), and gets 60% from private dances which are $30 each per "song" which she confessed, was only for around a minute in length. Kinda sad.
I didn't find her physically attractive, but there was something about this girl that made her interesting. For one, she didn't have any tattoos on her, which I appreciate seeing, and two, she had this kind of inner confidence that radiated out which covered up her imperfections.
So, she left, and I started asking Justin about Nicole, his girlfriend of around ten years.
It was depressing to find out the details of their sex life. She wasn't adventurous or eager to please, and Justin started telling me about how badly he wants to hook up with random girls. After hearing all the details (I always know the right questions to ask), I began to sympathize with him. A lot. I don't condone cheating, and all the advice I'd given him had no effect on their relationship, so I was left with nothing really to say, except for him to do what he thinks is best.
But, not cheating.. I mean, maybe he should break up with her if he's that depressed. Still though, ten years is a long time, that is a hard thing for anyone to do. They live together, and for years she's hinted at him to get married, but he doesn't want to. He really does not want to. He once told me how they both went to Ottawa to visit her family, and during a moment while he was alone with the guys; Nicole's brother asked him why he hasn't proposed, and there was a shitstorm that resulted in Justin tossing a beer bottle at his head.
I feel so bad for the guy. He's a really nice person. Nicole is really nice, too. He admits to loving her, but their sex life.. man.. I have no suggestions left, for how to fix any of what he told me about.
Poor guy.
I hope the magnetic bumper sticker I left on his Jeep will help cheer him up.
