He’s breathing heavily and trying to rub my thigh. Where has the naïve Paul I knew and loved for two hours gone?
The hour passes and he’s keen to buy another. I’m a bit bored but there’s only so many toilet breaks I can take without him thinking I’m either pregnant or have cystitis. Neither of which are good.
Halfway through the second hour, Paul’s hands are getting friendly with my legs again. I sit next to him, maybe we can have a lovely chat again, I’ll even listen to his golfing stories.
He gets closer to me and his fingers wander round my waist.
‘Why don’t we continue this at a hotel?’
I slap his wrists. I’m not a prostitute.
‘Lottie, I’m sorry, I’m getting too excited’.
‘It’s okay, just respect the rules.’
His face changes,
‘you’re so right Lottie. What am I doing here? I didn’t even want to be here, get a dance, and now I’m asking a girl young enough to be my daughter for sex. I’m sorry, please don’t think bad of me it’s just…’
He’s back to the Paul who I met when he first came in the club – the shy type of man who didn’t want to see a naked girl as he felt so bad on his wife at home. Was it the alcohol that changed him, or just simple that the tits got him horny? Not all men who come to strip clubs turn into raging animals. We don’t put a spell on customers to make them fancy us. Some just don’t.
So what made him change, and more importantly, why is feeling guilty again?
He gets upset, his eyes are welling up and I’m not sure how to react.
‘Lottie, I didn’t want to come in here as my wife’s at home. I got carried away, I’m so sorry – I haven’t had sex over a year and being here got me…well you know…horny’.
He hasn’t been intimate with his wife for over a year, is that normal or is it just marriage?
‘My wife you see, she has terminal cancer. She hasn’t got out of bed in weeks’.
Shit.
Seriously, shit.
‘She’s so ill and I’ve been unsatisfied, obviously. I’m her sole carer so there’s lots of pressure on me. Jesus, I feel so ashamed for saying it’.
Holy shit.
So that’s why he was so concerned about his wife calling him.
I can’t help feeling sorry for him; it must be hard knowing his wife is dying. But hang on a minute, Susan’s at home, facing her future death whilst Paul’s offering to pay me for sex.
That’s truly fucked up. Is the fact as he’s asking for sex as bad as if he went through with it?
Does have an ill wife make it worse or give you a free pass?
I’m not sure, but either way I guilty myself. Poor Susan.
What do I say?
No one prepares you for the terminally ill wife scenario of lap dancing. It should be mentioned in the contract.
I switch to work mode, we’ve been in VIP longer than he’s paid for. Now is not the right time to ask him if he wants to stay.
He tells me he’s going to leave the club, go home and be with his wife.
I go out for a cigarette and spend 20 minutes calming down; I can’t help thinking about poor Susan.
I compose myself and go back out on the floor.
There he is – Paul didn’t leave. He’s buying another VIP with Jessica and whispering in her ear, probably trying to get her home with him.
Is he a cheater? Is what he’s doing count as infidelity? Does his dying wife change the situation at all?
I’m not sure, all I know is he’s a dickhead.
