There was this one customer who came stumbling in to the club on New Year’s evening, about thirteen years ago. I was one of the first girls that walked up to him, and I remember him looking up at me with this dazed, glassy eyed look, and I thought, oh man this guy’s all fucked up.
He claimed that someone roofied him at the other strip club across town, which very well might have happened. I think it was acid? Maybe ecstasy? Anyway, I took care of him that night, and made sure none of the girls took him to the cleaners. Was that my responsibility? No, but it’s what I would want someone to do if I were here.
This customer ended up being the most loyal motherfucker. He was really weird, but in a harmless way, and annoying as hell, but he was smitten with me. He knew I was married, he met my husband, and when he was in town I would meet him for lunch, and then he would come in later that night to the club. Weird? Sure. There was nothing sexual between us, although I did give him a couple of lap dances. But after some time, I straight up told him I couldn’t give him dances anymore, because we had gotten to know each other too well, and it was uncomfortable for me. I think there were two other customers that I got to that point with as well-with certain customers, you just become too friendly and it get too weird to give them dances. Hey, if I can laugh and talk with a customer while he slips me twenties every couple of minutes, why not?
Anyway, this guy helped us out so much. He bought us a car when we really needed a vehicle, and we had paid him back about halfway before he forgave the rest of what was owed as a Christmas present one year. He brought me lots of dinners and desserts, and he was a bit of a foodie. His eyes were a light hazel, and they used to GLOW in the blacklight in this freakish way.
He was intense, and weird, but so good to me. And I was such a brat to him. My ex-husband and I really, honestly used the shit out of him. It was with him that I experienced my first and only Renaissance Festival. And a NJ zoo (I forget the name). He encouraged us to do fun things and would come up with new adventures for us to go on when he visited every couple of months.
A couple of weeks ago, I suddenly thought of him, and found his FB page. I sent him a friend request. I just wanted to tell him that I’m sorry for being such a brat and thank you, you know?
Last night I checked his page, and saw that my friend request was still pending. I decided to Google him….and found his obituary. He died this past January, “unexpectedly” at home.
I really regret not reaching out sooner. And I don’t remember how we left things, but I know I didn’t talk to him after I left my ex-husband. It’s bugging me a little bit. I wonder if he had a heartache? Suicide?
I had some really awesome customers during my dancing career, and he was one of the best. Back then I thought he was so annoying and strange, but he had my back.