Solid Gold

Last night, while heavily inebriated, I visited a highly recommended gentlemen's club called Solid Gold. My filthy rich friend of a friend sponsored lap dances from whatever girl struck my fancy. In between bouts of getting groped and grinded on, I befriended my second dancer. For some reason we ended up in a private room, alone. Strange no?
I guess no one was curious about the possibilites that could arise in a private room with a drunk college girl and a stripper. Needless to say, we got to down to brass tacks....

We had a hard-hitting debate about life.

As hard-hitting as a drunk college girl and a stripper could get, at least.
Actually, you'd be suprised at the level of hard-hittingness. Yeah I can make up words if I want.

She advised me to be firm and just say no.
To sex of course.
(we didn't talk about drugs, most likely on the next visit.)
She also showed me how to convey strength using just a simple facial expression, and made me practice verbalizing a resolute "NO."

There we sat smoking parliaments and sharing war stories.

Then she told me her price: $1000

The going rate to enter a stripper with enough self-respect to just say no is one thousand clams.

Not really knowing what to do with this newly acquired information, I smiled and nodded, and filed it away in my "random tidbits that could prove potentially useful" drawer.

Upon awakening this morning, still quite far from sober, I attempted to appraise myself.
What is my price?

Of course many factors come into play when deciding how much money one should charge for fornicating with a stranger.
Appearance, personality, maybe style, level of creepyness, size of member, duration etc...

I have yet to arrive at a number or even a range.
Which shouldn't be a problem because if the opportunity to sell myself ever arose, I would make a strong facial expression and very resolutely: just say no.