Poor guy.

"A retired American boxer," who will go unnamed, came into the club last night. He sat at a table in front of the stage, which was odd - why wasn't he in VIP?

"He's fucking broke, dude," one of the bouncers said into my ear.

He's been to prison for rape charges, has filed for bankruptcy, and is known to have lost his mind. He currently raises hundreds of pigeons at his home.

It was my turn up on stage. He was lookin' at me funny. He's just a scary dude, that's all. He kept putting cash on the stage. I took the hint. When I was done with my dance, I walked over.

I danced for him. Every now and then, he'd stop me to talk.

"I'm lonely, Lux. I just need someone to hold me, that's all. Nobody understands me. Nobody understands," he said.

I was still scared. He's just...really scary.

"Here, let me give you my number. Just call me sometime, and come over."

I kept dancing.

All of a sudden, he grabbed me really tight, and got so close to my ear, I could feel the hot saliva on his lips.

"Does this make you nervous?"

Yeah it does, you ear-biter-off 'er!

He spent two hundred dollars on me, then went home. I'm only slightly empathetic.