Can’t say I’m a seasoned vet of the clubs, only been to one I liked. But of my friends, who are of the “nerdy/relationship” variety I might as well be Hugh Hefner.

I started going to one just to kill time to avoid traffic one day, and get a few brews. Definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. Graphic tee. Sneakers. Sitting alone towards the back on a Thursday afternoon. I was practically screaming “never done this before”.

Saw the whole lineup of dancers, gave a few bucks for everyone since I was one of four people in there. And like a classic movie cliche, as I’m about to leave, she steps out.

For context, my “type” is thin, petite, smaller breasts , and cute face. Nothing crazy. And Nothing against the “Carmen Electra/Pam Anderson”’s of the club world but they aren’t for me.

She probably saw the “fuck me” eyes pop out of my head like Saturday morning cartoons. She came over, in her ridiculously high stilettos, and tilted her head in pity saying “can I come sit with you?”

HOLY SHIT. PLAY IT COOL….. “Yeah! Sure!”…… nailed it.

She finishes her dance and comes over, I’m racking my mind for anything I can say besides “marry me”. She says “I’m Lily”, “Pat” (fake names, sorry). We go through the usual questions: “how’s it going?” “How long your working till?” “How long you been here?” “What’s your ring size?” You know, the basics… maybe not that last one.

We start talking about interests and our jobs, we actually like the same things, mutual love for animals. Could not have scripted this if I tried. The conversation flowed like with no one else before.

She talked about things she disliked about the job, how she had to work the champagne room with another dancer for trashed construction workers. Nothing out of the ordinary, until the other dancers starts blowing the group…. Just terrible…. Had to fight the urge to ask how much it cost.

Finally, I get the courage to ask her for a dance after an hour. Looking back on it she was a trooper for sitting with me that long, granted there were four people in the whole club.

We go into a side room, and I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. I was less nervous to lose my virginity. I sit, she strips. Straddles me and runs her hand through my hair “you’re cute!”, no I’m in heaven. She grinds and touches me, tits and ass in my face, and a very noticeable erection in my pants. I was self conscious about it for a second but figured in her line of work it’s common and somewhat of a compliment?

She whispered in my ear “do you wanna go to the champagne room?” Fortunately for this story, my rational mind finally chimed in “As much as I’d love to spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars on you, I can’t today”.

Then in a snap, after JUST ONE SONG! She says “okay, let’s take a break!” Wut? Huh? That’s a thing? What about the two song rule? Did I do something wrong? Was it the boner? I swear it’s a compliment! I hesitantly say “…alright?” And we leave the room, I tip her anyway to try and get back on her good side but no dice.

And just like that, it was over. First heartbreak at the club. Crushed. She bid me adieu, and went on her way. She took me for about $80 in the span of an hour plus. I close my tab and go home, learning my first lesson of the club. Don’t fall in love.