Divorce, Single Parenting, Dating, Sex, & Self-Recovery

Picture This: A Beautiful Deaf Girl, 29, Working In a Titty Bar

Talking to a StripperShe sits on my lap and we exchange some hellos and she begins to sign. I know how to say “I love you.” I say. She lip reads. We laugh.

She pulls out a pen and paper and we carry on an amazing conversation. I don’t want to be at a titty bar with her. She wants to do a table dance, but she’s just working for a living. I am amused.

She let’s me pick the set of music she will dance to. She says she has been a “dancer” for ten years. Not titty dancing, mind you, real dancing. Says she was a cheerleader.

And what I notice is her perfume. Spicy and different. It’s all a haze now, I have come down. The hamburger was terrific and the company was fun as well.

For some reason I believe her. But I warn you, never believe anything a titty dancer tells you. They lie for a living. They lie to make you give up another $20 bucks. They lie about everything, most importantly, their name. It’s like something from T. S. Elliot, where the “real” name of a titty dancer might give you some power over them. Probably cuts down on the stalking.

Any way, Katy, I named her Mary Moon due to the quarter moon on her back, is 29, she says. And she is amazingly funny and articulate, in her writing. And she continues to sit on my lap. Asks if I will buy her a beer. Yes, of course.

So she dances to Foo Fighers’ Pretender, Black Hole Sun, and Name by the Goo Goo Dolls. A set made in my little moment of heaven. She is pretty, trim, petite and better looking than she is a dancer. She is moving to the thud of the music, of course she doesn’t know the words. I pay her some more dollars and buy her another beer when she’s done.

I tell her I can help her set up a website for her business. She takes my email and phone number, dutifully. (I don’t imagine she will ever really call me. But might as well put it out there.) Fill my own little portion of the fantasy.

And what I notice is her perfume. Spicy and different. It’s all a haze now, I have come down. The hamburger was terrific and the company was fun as well. She devoured my french fries when I was done.

So Mary Moon, I hope your night picks up. When I left there was one of three other paying patrons. It was Tuesday after all. And if you DO call, well, that will be another story.

Sincerely,

The Off Parent
@theoffparent

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