Home > Uncategorized > TMI Thursday: A Card-Carrying Man Whore, That Would Be Me

TMI Thursday: A Card-Carrying Man Whore, That Would Be Me

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As Lilu always says: “Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, ‘how many readers can I estrange THIS week??’ TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!”

Long as it been said that I am a man whore. It’s not even meant seriously, just that I have about seven times as many girl friends as I do guys. However, this story, dear degenerates, is where I actually somewhat earn that status.

It started fairly innocently, as so many other trainwrecks in my life do.

My dear friend, The Ginger, wanted our circle of friends to hang out one night to see her boyfriend off before he left for Kuwait. Her boyfriend was one of the first friends I made here so of course I would come out to send him off.

You know those stories that teach us we should always get the details before agreeing to these? Yeah, apparently I never listened to them.

I follow the directions I’m given and where should I find myself?

Teasers Men’s Club.

When I pulled into the parking lot and saw the sign, I just had to laugh.

So I’m there with about 16 of my friends as we take over a section of the club, having drinks (those of us who could), joking around, and laughing as our friends had lap or couch dances.

Then about half past midnight, the DJ comes on and tells all the women to sit down and for the men to get off their asses and show the ladies a good time.

One guy over at the bar, bit of a skeezer but all right, immediately gets into it. Another in the corner does as well.

My group? My group with nine guys? Guys who always say they’re not scared of anything?

No go.

If you know me at all by now, you can guess where this is going.

I scope out the room when I spy a brunette and an asian woman sitting on a couch not too far from us. I smile, introduce myself, and ask if they would like a dance. While being stone sober. Usually it takes me getting nice and drunk before lap dance offers start being bandied about.

They say yes, there’s some hard rock music playing, and I go to town.

Imagine my surprise when I realize I have about three dozen people watching me and am receiving catcalls out the yang. Want to make a dark-skinned man blush? Have several gorgeous woman slip small bills into his pants pockets.

Even now, five months later, I am recognized on sight in that club. Even though I’ve only been there twice since. So when you walk into the door and you have strippers that know you by name?

Yeah.

Now fast forward to about two weeks ago and I’m having lunch with Eva.

Eva: “Do you realize that all your close guy friends will graduate in a few weeks?”

Me: “Yes and that thought has me pretty damn sad.”

Eva: “You and your man-whoring, I swear. Hmm this gives me an idea.”

Me: “Do I want to know?”

Eva: “Well I figure if you’re going to be a whore, I might as well make a profit off it.”

I stare at her for a moment.

Me: “Are you suggesting that you become my pimp?”

Eva: “Pimp is such a strong word. I wouldn’t beat you, that bruises the merchandise. I’d be more like your agent.”

Me: “Sometimes I realize that my sense of humour rubbing off on you really was a bad thing.”


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Categories: Uncategorized
  1. April 30, 2009 at 7:42 PM

    I’m hoping the Teasers there is slightly more tasteful than the one here. This one, for sure, has a DIRTY DIRTY reputation for some NASTY ladies.

  2. May 1, 2009 at 11:41 AM

    You know what’s really scary?

    B and I have had that exact same conversation. Probably more than once.

  3. May 2, 2009 at 4:40 PM

    Hey, I just see it as a seriously commitment to challenging gender roles!
    (and Eva getting a quick buck)

  4. May 22, 2009 at 1:37 PM

    I dig having an agent. I will be borrowing this one.

  1. August 13, 2009 at 3:38 PM

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