Two Armos walk into the club. The younger one is skinny and short, the older one fat and short. I can tell they have never visited my club before. I watch them carefully taking a seat, and I can smell money on them. I rate their creep factor a high 10, but since it is a slow night, I decide to take on the challenge and talk to them.
When I introduce myself to them, they both give me fake American names and tell me they are bothers. SkinnyArmo is the younger one, and I get involved into a conversation with him. He tells me in his thick accent, “I know the owner of FullNudyClub down the street. Why don’t you dance there?” I say to him, “Oh, I heard about that club. Isn’t the owner Russian?” SkinnyArmo, “He’s Russian-Armenian, and he is a very nice guy.” Oh, yeah, I know this club very well, it’s more a brothel than a club, and I would never in hell dance there. But I tell him, “I might go check it out.” I read this guy very clearly, and he confirms my suspicion right away, “You know, we have these private parties every Thursday, and I want to invite you to join us. No sex … but …” I think, yeah right, no sex. That’s all you are looking for, to get laid. Then he says, “You know, I would do a dance with you, but I am a horny guy, and I want to touch, and I want more …” I want to vomit, but I say, since I know, I can squeeze some money out of this douche bag, “I know, but because of the alcohol license here in the club, touching is strictly prohibited, but we could still do a dance. Think about it.” Then I leave him sitting and move on to talk to his brother, FatArmo. I ask him what he does for living, and he answers very vaguely, “All kind of things!” I somehow mention his wife in our conversation, although, he doesn’t wear a wedding ring, and he is startled, “How do you know I am married.” I explain nonchalant, “I just know, I see a woman.” He lies, “I was married, not anymore.” Boooo, I hate when people lie to me. SkinnyArmo moves in to get my attention back and begs, “OK, let’s go do a dance.” I take him over to the lap dance booth and start my lap dance for him, or should I rather call it a wrestling match, him continuously telling me, “I am horny. Let’s meet later for more. I am down for it …” While I dance for SkinnyArmo, I can see in the mirrors a woman walking furiously into the club, straight to FatArmo. I know right away it’s his wife. I watch her badgering FatArmo, then she walks out of the club, comes back, badgers some more, leaves again and so on and on. Once I decide I had enough dances with SkinnyArmo, who is misbehaving the entire time, and I hate dancing for him, I tell him, “Oh look, your brother’s wife came to join you both.” He stiffens up, pays me like a nervous accountant without tipping me, and tries to hide at the bar, wanting me to stand in front of him. I tell SkinnyArmo, “Sorry, I have to go. Not interested in your brother’s wife scratching my eyes out.” In the wives eyes it’s always the fault of the dirty stripper why her husband is cheating. We are the black sheep, as if we force these guys to come into the club and look at us. I am smart enough to watch the situation from a distance not being associated with any of the ArmoBrothers.
After the woman leaves and ArmoBrothers leave, I find out from my bouncer that the devastated woman was begging her husband to come home with her. She told my bouncer, “I make over $100.000 a year, I am home, and I want him, but look he has to talk to these girls and looks at them instead of me.” Bouncer reassures her, “This is the cleanest club you will find in L. A.” And that is true. Both ArmoBrothers couldn’t find here what they were looking for, but they will eventually at another club, maybe. I feel bad for the wife, but I feel also misjudged by her, and maybe, if she wouldn’t be so close minded, she could have sat down with her husband and looked at us girls too. It would have empowered her, taken his game away, and if she would have talked to us girls, she would have had a chance to find out why her husband goes to establishments like this and that it is completely his choice. Maybe, she would have learned something about him she didn’t know yet, and it would have given her insights to make different choices about her life and relationships.
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