Who Wants a Signed ‘Girlfriend Experience’ Poster?

My entry for the signed poster below. Thanks for reading.

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The stench of desperation filled the room. It all congealed into a mass of sweat, stripper perfume and madness.

A giant pink neon outline of lips illuminated the DJ booth. The DJ himself was probably 45, 150 pounds overweight and knew the words to every 80s hair metal song. What did strippers dance to before Motley Crue?

The club was decorated in early American red light district — red tables, red lights and red stage. The patrons didn’t notice the decor. They were there to see the show. Lacey.

Lacey wasn’t her name, but it didn’t matter. Nobody used their real name. Knowing real names was a power few had.

Other girls were visibly hateful to her. Those lucky enough to get a stage seat were bouncing like a nine-year-old on Christmas Eve. She took the stage in all her flowing blonde hair, tan tight body and black stripper boots glory. The money floated out onto the stage as if twenty-five ATMs started spitting out bills. She didn’t disappoint.

Most of the other girls didn’t dance. They catwalked to the edge and wrapped their legs around a mark’s head. Sometimes they slapped a mark around with their tits. Lacey did none of these things. She danced. And when she danced, it was like magic.

The Japanese businessmen cut short their animated conversation to stare. A pool game in the back moved in for a closer look. The VIP room was shut, but no one was in there.

Lacey danced and the world stopped.

I found her later. She had slipped out of her admirers clutches just long enough to escape through the backdoor. She wore a white g-string, a black piece of lingerie and the aforementioned boots. I was back there to get some night air away from the blue haze of cigarette smoke. I smiled and she smiled back.

It was October and the first hint of crispness was in the air. I gave her my coat and I think it might have been the first bit of kindness she had been shown in a very long time. At least a bit of kindness that didn’t involve $20 bills changing hands.

She asked if I wanted a dance later. I declined and she was in disbelief. No one turned down the great Lacey for a dance. I said I just liked watching her dance. I think she laughed a bit at that one. It was akin to someone saying they buy Playboy for the articles.

I went home alone. The next morning I grabbed my coat to put on as I was heading to work. I fished for my keys in the front pocket and found a pack of matches from the club the night before. I don’t smoke and didn’t remember grabbing them.

Examining the matches closer, I open the pack and see a phone number with the words, “call me.� Two names were visible. One was Lacey, but it was X’d out.

Below it was the name Mary.

I want this poster because when I show it to someone and they say, “Oh, cool poster! What is The Girlfriend Experience?” I can then say that it’s a movie starring my friend Sasha who signed it for me and that we can watch it in HD because I just recorded thanks to the marvels of a DVR and HDNET… I’d also make sure she read the tagline, twice, before we did watch it. Know what I’m saying?

Because I’m trying to sleep with her.

Yes sir, that is EXACTLY what I’m saying.

Thanks for the opportunity.

Even the chance of winning is foreign to me. Awesome.

If you can’t get Sasha to pick the winner, can you at least get her to come over to my place…