The minimum

I am angry. Its good to be aware of it, I guess. Cannot express myself just the same. It comes out in some twisted attempt at being 'helpful'. Inside, I am full of irritation and contempt and outside there is a false sweetness and feigned confusion. I suggest that You should do it like THIS....when I am really saying...STOP DOING IT LIKE THAT! That sucks and I wish I was more aware and less fake. Some assholes came into the club. It happens...and usually its not a big deal...just more assholes. Sometimes I am susceptible to it and I can get cut down to a level of depression that is so dark and oppressive that it takes days to recover. Two guys are driving back up to New York and stop off for gas and decide to come in to our little dive club and critique us. Thanks fellas. Didn't tip a dollar. What kind of an asshole comes into a strip club and doesn't know to tip even a lousy buck? They proceed to look me over and ask, "where is your ass? where are the tits? Why should I tip you?" Because I am here and this is a titty bar where I dance for money. I am sweating and happy and simply came over to say hello. I am a hostess and I hope you are having a good time here with us...its a simple courtesy. Please be a gentleman. Then they tell me about the $ 80,000 car they drive. They tell me that how they decide to spend money is up to them, not me. That they could start pulling out twenties and fifties...shit...hundreds! if they chose to. They tell me that because I had only expected a dollar, and for that they have no respect...."You dont get nuthing", they say. Huh? I didn't even ask...I came over to welcome them and say hello. I had hoped that they would understand the unspoken expectation. Then one of the Russian girls comes over, furious and breathless, and throws money on the table and says, "Here is some money to tip the woman...pick it up and give it to her!" She knows that I am going to get crushed. She knows me...and has already read these guys correctly. I am trying to be real and connect with them and I should not be. I really should have given up then...I should have walked away. I should have honored my soul and bid them farewell and ignored the insult....but you see....I wanted that money. I got tricked by the desperation in me. I failed to recognize it in time. I was a bad night...and I am so poor. I lost honor in clinging to the hope that they might like me enough to give me on of those twenties. I feel disgusting when that happens. I hate being manipulated by money. Needing it so badly that I put myself to shame. I hate money. I forget that part of the job. I just want to dance and wear sparkles and pretend that I am not in a second rate titty bar in the suburbs of Baltimore. I dont want to see the sad drunk faces of old men through the eyes of a cynic. I want to love humanity....and bring a light and a smile and a little tingle of sex. Let me keep my spark. Please dont rob me anymore. I dont want to hate men. I lost my heart. My arms fell to the side. The lights got dim and the girls looked stupid. I felt old and lost and pathetic. I am so stuck and scared and sad. When does the father of my child have to stand around and beg for money in his underwear just to feed her. When will women get the help they need, when the men just walk away? Who is pathetic? Fucking assholes.