Ima’ Bounce for Ya

I used to be a stripper. To specify, I used to be a stripper in West Virginia, and it sucked. The economy is horrible there. So, every time my best friend, Violet (who also used to be a stripper) and I got the chance, we would make the long trek to the mystical land of Columbus, Ohio. The city contains, not only a giant building in the shape of a basket, *gasp* but is also the home of the first Wendy’s! Anyway, I’m not a fan of Columbus.

We used to drive there, get all dolled up in the car, dance and then get a hotel room at 5:00a.m., because five was the cut-off to a new day and this meant that we could get the room until the next morning at 5a.m. It was a pretty sweet set-up because the club where we worked had a deal with the Best Western (?somehow?) and if we told the guy at the front desk that we worked there, we would get an $80.00 room for $40.00. They had an indoor pool and everything. It was awesome.

Usually, we were exhausted by the time we got off of work and back to the hotel, but this one night, we were feeling particularly fearless because we had our friend Sita with us. Sita’s fucking awesome and sexy as hell. She’s pure muscle, but not in a gross way, with big real tits and a big shelf ass (you could sit your precious knick-knacks on Sita’s ass). She’s a kick-boxer and has a license to carry a gun, which she does. She’s always laughing and is a really fun girl to be around. She also used to be a stripper.

Anyway, as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, this big, muscle-bound dude walks up to our car. I was pretty fucking scared, but we had a gun and all he had were fliers. I rolled down the window and when he peered in, he eye-fucked all of us, but then he smiled and handed us a flier. It was for an all male review. He was a stripper too! I immediately felt for him and tried to be nice, even though I have no interest in seeing a man dance naked. It’s funny, but it’s not sexy. I think that we all felt bad for him and we were all trying to be nice and ask about the show.

Suddenly he was like “I’ll tell you what Ima’ do. Ima’ bounce for you. Ima’ bounce for you right here.” He walked a few feet from our car and climbs into a shiny, brand new SUV. I was starting to feel a little less sorry and a little more weirded-out by this guy, but my curiosity was begging me to stay. He rolled down the front drivers side window and was still talking to us. What kind of hilarious speedo-clad dance was this guy going to do for us in the parking lot? We were laughing the whole time. You could tell he was struggling with his tear away pants. It took him a really long time to get those pants off, but he did and when he finally stepped out of the vehicle, he was naked. I don’t know why, but none of us had really anticipated that he would get out naked. Not only was he naked, but he was ROCK HARD! He wasn’t taking his pants off for that long, at all. He was stroking his giant cock! It was fucking huge! It literally looked like he had a 15 inch rubber tree stump growing from the tops of his legs. We were all laughing hysterically at this point and I drove away as fast as I could.

I don’t remember what I said to the guy, but Violet later told me that I screamed “That’s terrifying!” out the window as we were driving away. But I was stoned and I don’t remember that. All I remember is looking back at the giant naked black dude in nothing but white sneakers, standing there with two of his arms spread, yelling, “Where you going, baby?” and another, slightly smaller arm waving good-bye to us in the breeze.

Later, we examined the flier more closely and in the light and realized that it wasn’t even his flier. He had stolen someone else’s flier and written over it with Sharpee marker. What the fuck was wrong with that guy?