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How to date a stripper.

When most guys go to the strip club, they think the strippers there are ‘untouchable,’ like some sort of special type of woman. They think the only way to get a stripper to be with them is to give them large sums of money. The truth is strippers are great to date. They’re hot, fairly easy, and generally not looking for much commitment.

Go to the club right after they open, usually in the first hour or hour and a half after they open, the place is dead and the strippers are just chilling, hanging around, practicing pole-tricks and talking to each other. This is the best moment to try to approach them without feeling under pressure because they are still not in their crazy money-making mode.

Strippers get lots of attention, in the club and oftentimes out of it. If you can’t handle your partner receiving plenty of admiration, dating a stripper is probably not for you. Don’t go into a relationship with a stripper thinking you can ‘change’ her or expect her to get another job. Either accept that she strips or find someone who doesn’t.

The MOST important thing you have to do is separate yourself from the other guys. You can’t be your average chump that goes in there, wallet ready to get lap dances.

To begin with, you need to ‘neg’ the stripper, meaning basically flirt with her by teasing her. You MUST act like you think you are good enough for the stripper to want to date outside the strip club. Basically, you shouldn’t want to pay her to go out on a date with you. IF anything, she should pay you to go out on a date with her. You need to act like you can get girls like her all the time, so it’s a matter of if she’s good enough for you.

By ‘negging’ her, you send this message in a playful matter. For example, let’s say a stripper has some like schoolgirl outfit on. When you approach her (again, better to approach her than she approach you because it shows confidence), you should say something like “School girl outfit huh? That’s real original.”

Stripper: Haha, I know a lot of girls wear it, but I think it’s cool.

You: Yeah, I mean, it’s ok in all in theory, it’s just that most of the girls that wear it are kinda nuts. Last girl I talked to wearing a schoolgirl outfit was some 40 year-old that believed she had a 12 year-old girl’s spirit trapped in her. You’re not like nuts like that are you?

As you can see, you are starting a conversation with her that’s funny, but at the same time, making it seem like she is the one that needs to validate herself to you.

The WORST thing to do is to go to a stripper and talk about how pretty she is, how you could never be able to date a girl like her, how you’ll give her money just to go shopping with you, etc. Strippers HATE that. They don’t respect those sorts of guys. They see it all the time and it grosses them out.

After talking to the stripper, negging her and stuff, you’ll at some point need to get the stripper’s number. This in of itself is not that hard. The issue though is that strippers are extremely flaky. Getting them to answer the phone, no less meet you somewhere later is incredibly difficult feat to accomplish. It is a generally more practical route to go somewhere after she gets off work.

It helps a lot if you’re a semi-regular at the strip club. If she gets to know you, she’lll be more comfortable leaving with you. You’ll also have multiple opportunities to neg her and flirt with her.

Being a semi-regular does not need to be expensive. The key is to not pay for lap dances. Tip a girl on stage- sure. In fact, tip them beter than average, like a $5-$10 instead of a few singles. But if you start getting lap dances from her, not only are you paying way too much for pretty pathetic entertainment, she’ll start viewing you as a customer more than as a potential date.

Now, buying a drink for the stripper is perfectly good and is a good way to get some flirting time in. So drinks yes, lap dances no.

Dating strippers involves a lot of variance. Once you get good at it, you’ll realize that it’s more of a matter of how flaky they are than how good your game is. Just act confident, cocky, funny, have a good time, and don’t spend too much money.

Leave when the club gets too busy and all the girls start giving lap dances to their customers. Let her know that you don’t want to interfere in her money making, wish her good luck and tell her you’ll come to see her some other day. With several visits, she’ll hopefully smile when you visit and make a beeline towards you as soon as she gets the chance. If she doesn’t, it may be that she strictly doesn’t date any customers of the club, or she may be dating someone already.

Several points to consider:

1. You’re not Special.

You’re one of 18 guys she’s juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. It’s her job to make guys feel like they’re the only one she’s interested in. She gets paid handsomely for that skill. That sultry stare she’s giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they’re six months behind on child support.

2. She makes more money than you. Get used to it.

Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). She’s ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn’t expect her to pay for anything. It’s not in her nature. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she’ll claim she’s never done, but the other girls at the club have — right — she’s done it at least once).

3. If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you’re in for a hurricane of pain.

Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand “friends” calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. Her apartment is littered with soggy G-strings and cheap 8-inch heeled shoes, along with empty tubes of body glitter, mascara, prescription drugs, zit cream, Aqua Net and Polaroid pictures of her and her “friends” engaged in some drinking and dancing on St. Patrick’s Day last year. The Polaroid pictures of her and her stripper friends getting nasty for the entire bar are still circulating around town because one of the guys she dated last month stole them out of her nightstand when he sensed the end was near and he wasn’t going to be getting any more Cinnamon Love.

3. She has more guy friends than you had all throughout high school and college, collectively.

Sometimes they’ll just drop in when you two are hanging out and you’re thinking it might get romantic. The guy friend will ask her — right in front of you — if she wants to go to Happy Hour at the Knick Knack Paddy Whack Lounge and she’ll look at you with bright eyes and say, “Yeah — let’s go to Happy Hour with Tim here — it’ll be fun!” And you, still gripping on to that glimmer of hope for some pussy, will say yes and you’ll spend the next three hours in a simmering rage while you quaff watered-down Bud Light drafts, because she’s the most popular girl in the bar and every person with a penis in there is looking to hop on the Stripper Wagon that is blazing through Stripperville at a very unsafe speed.

All of those “guy friends” started out just like you, chief. They saw the Promised Titty Land and thought they could get there, too. Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to “friends.” They could’ve bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit. You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation.

4. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random.

This stimulates her sub-par self-esteem. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy’s crotch rocket. By 1pm she’s already at some different guy’s house, swimming naked in the pool with him and his Great Dane named Robo. By 5pm she’s doing “X” at some other guy’s house, and from there she goes home for the five-minute shower and gets ready for work.

5. She’ll blow you off for three dates in a row.

When you keep calling, she knows she has you. That Saturday night dinner and special room you’ve secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she’s going to Mexico with some of her “friends.” Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you’ll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you’re scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.

It’s a crazy affair, for sure, but just remember these do’s and don’ts and you’ll be fine:

DON’T ever call her and not announce your name. Her phone rings more than all of the lines at the New York Times combined. Don’t put her in the precarious position of trying to guess your name. “Is it Steve? Rick? Mike? Dave? Javier? Justin? Michael? Chris? Matt? Juan? Adam? Alex? Roberto? Ed? Brian? Eugene? Tim?” She’ll make it quite clear that she has many suitors, which excites her to no end, and puts you in a bottle of bourbon all alone by 9pm that night. Try to sound upbeat: “Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just walking through Tiffany’s, looking at a $900 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you.” (She smokes. They all smoke. She’d gush over an ashtray from Tiffany’s. Don’t buy it, though. Make her think you would’ve bought it for her, if only there was a rose engraved on it.)

DON’T ask her about her fucking tattoos unless you want to look like one of her customers.

DON’T go see her at her job unless it’s absolutely necessary. A necessity would be getting her condo key so you can go feed her cat. If you get to that point, FYI, you’re now one of her “friends,” and you can wrap up the sexual fantasies you have of her by beating off right on her pillow after you throw the cat some Meow Mix.

DON’T try to keep up with her. Don’t skip work to spend the day with her. She works nights and you work days. Keep your job. Her days are spent at tanning booths, Frederick’s of Hollywood and chic outdoor cafés where her and her stripper “friends” eat poached salmon salads with dressing on the side.

DO carry lots of hundreds in a money clip. Make sure she sees you strip off the bills when the dinner check comes. Or better yet, whip out the Corporate Amex and toss it on the table like you’re folding a bad poker hand. Clasp your hands behind your head and lean back into your chair after you make the Amex toss, as if to say, “See that? Unlimited credit, baby.”

DO kiss her on the cheek when she shows up at your place for the nice dinner you’re going to cook her, and knock her fishnets off with your ability to handle the cuisine and wine. At some early point in the evening though, you’re going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do. Pull the battery or she’s going to get some call at midnight, when you’ve got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you’re about to “storm the beach.” This call will undoubtedly be from one of her “friends” who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she’ll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, “Let’s go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin!”

DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U.K. “Quadrophenia” Tour. They’re a bad lot to hang out with, because there’s so much freedom and money in Stripperville. They’ve got it all and they don’t need you or anyone else. All they need is their Xanax and Raspberry Stoli on the rocks and their job. Yeah — the job. That’s what fuels the lifestyle and you’re never going to pry her from it. Don’t even suggest it.

If your goal from the aforementioned list is “sex,” you need to understand that it’s going to take at least five dates. At least. Figure $250 per date. Compound that and it’s a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment. While that fine body, devoid of tan lines, might fuel you to the fifth date, I’d recommend looking into escort services in your area. With an escort, you’re getting what you want right off the bat, and it’ll likely cost you half of what Cinnamon is charging.

Good luck in Stripperville. It’ll be a short stay, but something you’ll talk about for years to come.

Greg A. Bruns is a freelance writer residing in Phoenix, Arizona. His monthly column “Straight Up with a Twist” appears in the Arcadia News. His first book,


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