Strippers and Hookups- guys sharing their stories of dating a stripper.
By Drew Magary to Deadspin
When I was in college, I lived with four other guys in an apartment complex a few blocks away from the best strip club in town. I was the only one in school, the other three were all out in the working world but we all stayed up odd hours and seemed to end up at the club a couple times a month (I’d gotten a brick of free passes and lifetime membership card halfway through college through some strange circumstances so we never paid a cover).
Anyway, over the months of going I kept running into this stripper. Her stage name was Baby (of course it was) but I came to learn her real name was Anissa. Whenever I come around the club and she is there, she grabs me. I end up spending a hundo-plus most nights she’s there but it’s far less than the actual number of lap dances. There was some kissing and making out over that time but nothing I wouldn’t expect any other stripper to do for the almighty dollar.
So one night, me and the four amigos go up to the club along with some other buddies and Anissa finds me around 1:30am. She says she has something to go do but not to leave. So I sit, have a beer and eventually she comes back and sits on my lap. She tells me I have to take her to the couch room for a lap dance (one meaning many of course).
We go back and she’s really getting after it tonight. Normally she’s good but she’s never a package grabber and she’s sloppy drunk making out with me, biting all over. It’s pretty obvious something is different. (FWIW, we had exchanged numbers earlier. Had texted a little but nothing too serious)
Anyway, where bumping and grinding, she’s grabbing all over me and I lose track of time.
As I’m sitting there enjoying the bliss, I hear someone yell, “ANISSA, YOU GODDAMN SLUT!” There’s a shorter, bald guy with pythons for arms standing at the entrance to the couch room. He walks up and begins to just scream at her about how he’s been waiting two hours and what the fuck she’s doing with me. Turns out, it was her fiance … who she lived with … and had a kid with.
I’m a nervous wreck. I essentially sit back and take his yelling in, at both her and me. He leaves, I throw a few dollars her way, which was not nearly enough considering it is now 5am, and bolt out the door. (Yes, we were lap dancing/dry humping for 3-plus hours)
If memory serves me correct, I think I saw her one other time after and she just said. I moved to another state and by the time I got back she’d given up the pole for life as a housewife. I was this close to proving Chris Rock wrong ….