Reasons for dating a dancer braces and dating
What she lacks in height, she makes up for in personality. It makes her feel like her neck is going to break (note: It was made to support the weight of her pretty little head only, possibly along with a motorcycle helmet, if you're that kind of guy). After all, she can wear the highest heels without looking ridiculous, which she knows makes her tall friends jealous. If you keep things where she can't reach them, she make you get them. And if you do want a romantic night of walking around town, let her know in advance so girlfriend can at least wear a wedge.12. Unlike the tall girl you last dated, you can put her in almost any position you want when you're fooling around. She knows how petite she is, but just because you might be seeing her/learning this information for the first time doesn't mean you need to voice it. She doesn't discriminate against shorter guys, but she has her eye on tall men. She wants to give her kids a shot at being tall one day, and in her dreams, her 5-foot-2 self your 6-foot-3 self = a 5-foot-9 daughter/son.5. She will always be in high heels, so don't expect to be able to walk to dinner. When you meet her IRL, she doesn't need to be reminded that she's tiny.Not only is he intelligent, but he is intuitively rational, organized, detail oriented and sometimes a perfectionist, in the best way possible.The ones I have met are the least douchey guys I have ever known. He can read a book and instantly figure out how something works.7. Try to sound upbeat: "Hi Cinnamon, this is Greg, I was just walking through Tiffany’s, looking at a 0 sterling-silver ashtray and thought of you." (She smokes. A necessity would be getting her condo key so you can go feed her cat. Clasp your hands behind your head and lean back into your chair after you make the Amex toss, as if to say, "See that? " She’ll make it quite clear that she has many suitors, which excites her to no end, and puts you in a bottle of bourbon all alone by 9pm that night. DON’T go see her at her job unless it’s absolutely necessary. Or better yet, whip out the Corporate Amex and toss it on the table like you’re folding a bad poker hand.
Look walking into this without a goal is certain means for failure, because she operates on her own terms and if you let her manipulate you and lead the show, you’re sunk. It’s her job to make guys feel like they’re the only one she’s interested in. That sultry stare she’s giving you across the dinner table with those piercing green eyes is the same look that forces 75 men-a-night to fumble for their wallets and jam fistfuls of green into her G-string even though they’re six months behind on child support. Your future with this chick: broken dates, shattered windows, holes punched in doors, a slew of ex-boyfriends and husbands, a thousand "friends" calling all the time, an encyclopedia of restraining orders she has out on said exes and a couple customers who stalked her for six months. " DO remember this: strippers are more fucked up than The Who was during their 1973 U. They’ve got it all and they don’t need you or anyone else. Compound that and it’s a nice little used Hobie Cat or a decent house payment. You’re one of 18 guys she’s juggling right now, and one of a hundred who witness her naked glory every night. She’s ripping 2-5K a week tax-free, and you shouldn’t expect her to pay for anything. Guys fawn all over her every single night and offer her stacks of crisp Benjamins in an effort to get their knobs slobbered on in the parking lot behind the club (something she’ll claim she’s never done, but the other girls at the club have right she’s done it at least once). If you get emotionally involved with this girl, you’re in for a hurricane of pain. Pull the battery or she’s going to get some call at midnight, when you’ve got the Miles Davis playing lightly in the background, and the candles illuminating the room in a soft glow and you think you’re about to "storm the beach." This call will undoubtedly be from one of her "friends" who is going to an after-hours party at some country bar and all of the sudden she’ll squeal with delight and jot down the address on her hand and say to you, "Let’s go Two-Stepping at the Country Bunker with John and Kevin! They’re a bad lot to hang out with, because there’s so much freedom and money in Stripperville. Keep in mind that she pulls down more than most corporate attorneys (who also represent a large portion of her clientele). At some early point in the evening though, you’re going to have to find her cell phone in her purse and steal the battery out of it, because that thing will ring incessantly and she will eventually find something or someone better to do.Once they tired of the bullshit and drama, or she found someone else, they were relegated to "friends." They could’ve bought a fucking sailboat with all the money they blew on young Cinnamon, and now they hang on to some last vestige of hope, thinking that she may just get drunk enough some night and let them put their spit on the slit. You guys could all get together and swap the exact same stories about wasted nights, full-blown disappointment, and confused, desperate whack-off sessions when you all found out that dating a stripper is no different than trying to debate Nietzsche with a Dalmation. Her life is a flurry of activity selected at random. At 10am she will be rocketing down the freeway at 130mph on the back of some guy’s crotch rocket. That Saturday night dinner and special room you’ve secured at the fucking Ritz will be vaporized after she tells you she’s going to Mexico with some of her "friends." Her whimsical trip to Mexico will forever after be known as Cabo Wabo Orgy 2002, and you’ll likely come across some digital pix of her fellating two guys on the beach in Cabo while you’re scanning some amateur porn site on the Net.