yoUr bLiSS
Bluelighter
Today is your birthday. I had planned on calling you, but that was before the shit you pulled last night. A couple of years ago you screwed me over. You lied and basically stole money from me. $50 is all my friendship was worth back then. Although I never forgot...I forgave. 14 years of friendship and several mutual friends is the only reason why. I used to blame it on him. Your now ex-boyfriend. I felt that he tainted you, influenced you. I learned so much about myself from you, I could not believe that maybe you were not all that you seem.
Last night I found out once again just how little our friendship is worth to you. It has gone down in value with time. This time is was only worth $20. The circumstances were completely different. You did not directly lie nor steal from me. Yet your actions showed me just how little you think of me, how high you think of yourself, and that you'll do anything for a dollar.
You have always had this strange jealousy competition thing going with me. You even admitted that in Jr. High you quit dance class because I was better then you. When we lived together as two single wild partying girls you always had to steal the attention from me if it was not on you. It wasn't very hard to do this with most people. Physically you are beautiful, you exude this playful sexual energy. People are drawn to you because on the surface you seem so genuine. Time has only made you worse. Even before the actual incident last night, I could see through you at the bar. The job has changed you.
Just for myself, all those interested, and the slight chance you may read this, I'm going to recap the entire night. You haven't posted in years, but you once admitted to me that you still browse words. "It's my way of finding out how your doing when your not around" you said.
--------------------------------------------
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was your braids. Tons of bright crazy colored braids mixed in with your brown hair. They looked great. The second thing I noticed was your thong. Granted we dance/bartend iin a bikini bar. Yet once we come off stage we cover up somewhat, especially if we are working the bar that night. Your cover up did not even come close to cover up your ass. Obviously this was your intent. The boss was not there tonight so you were breaking the rules to your benefit. Fine, I've got no problem with that. Work your tips girl. I for one have enough men staring at my ass onstage, I do not need that attention while offstage.
Things were cool for awhile. Typical slow Wednesday night. You were kicking ass on tips. You busted out your hula-hoop. JK would never allow that, plus the stage is waay to small. The customer loved it though. At this point everything was still cool between us.
I noticed a small change when you asked about the "cute boy" This adorable punk rock boy with dimple in a black beenie. "What's his name? He's really cute." you asked. I wasn't sure of his name, but he had been in before. He would always come up and tip me a few dollars when I was onstage. For the most part, he played pool and drank beer. I'd always catch him smiling at me. He never really paid attention to any of the other dancers. It was at this point that I believe your attention complex kicked in.
For no reason other then to flaunt how much money you had made, you asked me to double count it for you. I could not change it out, it was not my register at the time. The act was pointless. The bartender should have double counted it. A little while later you came running up to tell me you had just been tipped a $100 bill but you had "no idea" who gave you it. Cute boy would later tell me that this guy Matt(a regular who plays pool but never tips the dancers) told him that you two have a "special relationship". He then pulled out a $100 bill and walked to the stage and smiled at you as he laid it on the bar. Hmmm...I thought you had no idea who gave it to you. Special relationship? I don't even want to know.
So now we get to the incident. It may seem small, but the principle of it is big. As is the unspoken law of dancer etiquette.
It was the end of the night. You had just finished your last set. The next girl was up, then I would close. Each set is 3 songs. Sometimes the last dancer of the night gets their set cut off early. Time was looking like I would have just enough to do my full 3 songs. I was smoking a cigarette by the door with cute boy and the creepy man-with-no-teeth who had been there for hours. You told me that a customer had just offered to tip you $20 for once more dance. (Just to clarify, we dance on a stage. No lapdances. No touching.) By the time the girl onstage finished her set, and I finished mine, that is if I even had time to finish it, there would be no time for one more dance. In this situation I would have told the customer it was my last set of the night and then directed him to the schedule so he could come back and see me later. Not you. You jumped right off stage, put your song in the jukebox, and then came over to inform me of this.
Obviously the fact that you were going to be screwing me out of a song, which also means screwing me out of money did not occur to you. Or maybe it did and you did not care. You did not even ask me first, you played your song and came over to tell me. The tone in my voice and the look on my face when I responded to you showed my disapproval. I did not want to get too nasty with you in front of the customers though. "Okay, so your going to split whatever you make on that dance with me right?" I yelled after you as you walked away.
At this point I thought you would eject your song and let things play out the way they are supposed to. The girl onstage ends her set. One of my songs comes on--NOT one of the songs I chose for my last set but one of my songs from my cd that I dance to. You stole my dance and then picked my song. You start to head up to the stage. Now I'm pissed. I walk up there and scream up to you "So your screwing me out of a dance and using my song. Fine. I expect you to split your tips with me. It's the only way to make this fair right?" You ignore me and do your thing. As soon as your done, I go up and only have time for two songs. By the time I get offstage you are long gone.
---------------------------------
Looking back on it all and getting it all out like this has helped. I am no longer pissed. This wasn't about the money. It never has been with me. It is about me finally letting go of you. We had some good times, you taught me alot about myself, but that was all. You are not a good person. My friends are true and genuine. They would do anything for me, as I would for them. You are not one of these people.
I hope you have a Happy Birthday. You will not be getting a call from me.
Last night I found out once again just how little our friendship is worth to you. It has gone down in value with time. This time is was only worth $20. The circumstances were completely different. You did not directly lie nor steal from me. Yet your actions showed me just how little you think of me, how high you think of yourself, and that you'll do anything for a dollar.
You have always had this strange jealousy competition thing going with me. You even admitted that in Jr. High you quit dance class because I was better then you. When we lived together as two single wild partying girls you always had to steal the attention from me if it was not on you. It wasn't very hard to do this with most people. Physically you are beautiful, you exude this playful sexual energy. People are drawn to you because on the surface you seem so genuine. Time has only made you worse. Even before the actual incident last night, I could see through you at the bar. The job has changed you.
Just for myself, all those interested, and the slight chance you may read this, I'm going to recap the entire night. You haven't posted in years, but you once admitted to me that you still browse words. "It's my way of finding out how your doing when your not around" you said.
--------------------------------------------
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was your braids. Tons of bright crazy colored braids mixed in with your brown hair. They looked great. The second thing I noticed was your thong. Granted we dance/bartend iin a bikini bar. Yet once we come off stage we cover up somewhat, especially if we are working the bar that night. Your cover up did not even come close to cover up your ass. Obviously this was your intent. The boss was not there tonight so you were breaking the rules to your benefit. Fine, I've got no problem with that. Work your tips girl. I for one have enough men staring at my ass onstage, I do not need that attention while offstage.
Things were cool for awhile. Typical slow Wednesday night. You were kicking ass on tips. You busted out your hula-hoop. JK would never allow that, plus the stage is waay to small. The customer loved it though. At this point everything was still cool between us.
I noticed a small change when you asked about the "cute boy" This adorable punk rock boy with dimple in a black beenie. "What's his name? He's really cute." you asked. I wasn't sure of his name, but he had been in before. He would always come up and tip me a few dollars when I was onstage. For the most part, he played pool and drank beer. I'd always catch him smiling at me. He never really paid attention to any of the other dancers. It was at this point that I believe your attention complex kicked in.
For no reason other then to flaunt how much money you had made, you asked me to double count it for you. I could not change it out, it was not my register at the time. The act was pointless. The bartender should have double counted it. A little while later you came running up to tell me you had just been tipped a $100 bill but you had "no idea" who gave you it. Cute boy would later tell me that this guy Matt(a regular who plays pool but never tips the dancers) told him that you two have a "special relationship". He then pulled out a $100 bill and walked to the stage and smiled at you as he laid it on the bar. Hmmm...I thought you had no idea who gave it to you. Special relationship? I don't even want to know.
So now we get to the incident. It may seem small, but the principle of it is big. As is the unspoken law of dancer etiquette.
It was the end of the night. You had just finished your last set. The next girl was up, then I would close. Each set is 3 songs. Sometimes the last dancer of the night gets their set cut off early. Time was looking like I would have just enough to do my full 3 songs. I was smoking a cigarette by the door with cute boy and the creepy man-with-no-teeth who had been there for hours. You told me that a customer had just offered to tip you $20 for once more dance. (Just to clarify, we dance on a stage. No lapdances. No touching.) By the time the girl onstage finished her set, and I finished mine, that is if I even had time to finish it, there would be no time for one more dance. In this situation I would have told the customer it was my last set of the night and then directed him to the schedule so he could come back and see me later. Not you. You jumped right off stage, put your song in the jukebox, and then came over to inform me of this.
Obviously the fact that you were going to be screwing me out of a song, which also means screwing me out of money did not occur to you. Or maybe it did and you did not care. You did not even ask me first, you played your song and came over to tell me. The tone in my voice and the look on my face when I responded to you showed my disapproval. I did not want to get too nasty with you in front of the customers though. "Okay, so your going to split whatever you make on that dance with me right?" I yelled after you as you walked away.
At this point I thought you would eject your song and let things play out the way they are supposed to. The girl onstage ends her set. One of my songs comes on--NOT one of the songs I chose for my last set but one of my songs from my cd that I dance to. You stole my dance and then picked my song. You start to head up to the stage. Now I'm pissed. I walk up there and scream up to you "So your screwing me out of a dance and using my song. Fine. I expect you to split your tips with me. It's the only way to make this fair right?" You ignore me and do your thing. As soon as your done, I go up and only have time for two songs. By the time I get offstage you are long gone.
---------------------------------
Looking back on it all and getting it all out like this has helped. I am no longer pissed. This wasn't about the money. It never has been with me. It is about me finally letting go of you. We had some good times, you taught me alot about myself, but that was all. You are not a good person. My friends are true and genuine. They would do anything for me, as I would for them. You are not one of these people.
I hope you have a Happy Birthday. You will not be getting a call from me.
Last edited:
