Feeling Burned Tonight

So when I was at the intersection, which I was diverted to because one of the main thoroughfares remain closed southbound, I was at a crossroads.  I had just been to the Minnesota United FC game, a 2-0 friendly win over Swansea, the first time a team from the English Premier League has ever played in this great state.  While I enjoyed myself at the game, spending $36 depleted the $60 I took out that morning.

My plans were an and/or: I could go to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division), or I could go to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place.  I checked out the balance of my checking account when I got the money that morning, and I was quickly chastened.

Another thing: I'm getting really good mileage on my car.  The needle was barely below the full notch, but the 160 miles I've already racked up means that that needle should be at half full.  Taking rights keep it up, but I know that eventually it'll go down, and I don't know if I wanted to aid that by going downtown and then going back to where I was just to eat.

But then I then started changing my mind:

• It's Saturday, and I haven't been down to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) in at least a week, so I should go ...
• While waiting for the soccer traffic to clear I checked my wallet and I saw that I had only $10 -- or at least I thought I only had $10 -- so that seems as if I should not go ...
• But the road close means I'll be diverted to the other thoroughfare that sends me to the club, so I'll be going in that direction, therefore I should go ...
• Only to realize that at this intersection, I just need to take a right and I'll be at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, so why don't I just go there and not go ...
• But I was in the left turn lane, so I might as well go ...
• Wait a second ... I only have $10.  That's not enough for me to eat, let alone enjoy with titties.  Might as well get money on my way to the stripclub.

So I decided to go to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) after all, where they had four of the hottest strippers on the roster, one of them I saw for the first time.  One of them was *****y, who basically badgered me into a dance because she said I promised her one -- oh, and gave my word that she would look at the pictures from my roadtrip (which I know I haven't gotten to yet, but after this I will).

Fine, fine, fine.  I probably made that promise, and an impromptu dance on a night like this (when all the girls were giving at least two dances in the hour I was there, a first in my decade-plus patronizing this place) was the reason I extracted another $40.  But then *****y shortchanged the time of her lapdance and reneged on  her promise to watch my (admittedly boring) photos.  She screwed me over, basically.  *****y works like that, hustling especially on nights where it seems money is to be had.  But a promise is a promise, and her mercenary tactics rubbed me the wrong way, particularly when I'm not rolling in the dough right now.  Yeah, I guess I could have not gone, but that doesn't excuse her from what she did.

Then other stuff bothered me.  Another of the dancers, Heaven, scratched my back while she was on-stage.  Hard.  Like I needed one of the other strippers to check my back to make sure I wasn't bleeding.  Welts and a lot of pain.  Surprised me; I thought Heaven had a more level head than this, but seeing that she basically let a guy paw her twat without getting money from him first, she really was blasted out of her mind like she said.

I did go back up to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place -- right where I was -- and that's where I'm writing this ... while getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.  Like I said before, yet risked going back because it was humid but virtually cloudy all day.

So I was paralyzed by indecision, spent money I shouldn't have spent, got taken advantage of by a stripper, was physically assaulted by a woman and insects, and wasted what appears to be a quarter tank of gas.  Just because I decided to take a left rather than a right at a literal crossroads.

And the top of my back still hurts like fuck.