He had been one of my regular customers for almost two years now. He would always come in, talk a little too much for my taste, do two to three dances, and then leave. I had noticed that he felt more and more comfortable around me. Things had become a little too friendship like. And when that happens men expect you to spend time with them for free. And last night, my suspicion was confirmed. He kept chewing my ear off about his life, his career, his blah blah blah. The DJ announced, “Last call for Alcohol.” So I asked him, “Do you want to do dances?” He hesitated. Me, “If not I’ll change.” Him, “Next time.” Expecting me to continue to hang out with him till the last dancer of the night got off stage. But I said briefly my good-byes and left. About 30 minutes later a text from him came rolling in, “Jones, there’s something I forgot to tell you, but it’s not really for text.” I replied back, “Next time.” It’s best to give people a taste of their own medicine.
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