I’m not a girl who has lots of celebrity stories to tell. I’ve met numerous sport stars and movie-industry people (both porn and mainstream) while working in strip clubs. I waited on Jeff Gordon and Dale Earnhardt, both of whom were nice and gave autographs for a friend of mine that was a NASCAR fan (I had zero idea of who they were until years later). I saw Luke Wilson in Baby Dolls. I saw Dennis Rodman at Cabaret Royale a number of times. Once he was walking by my table and suddenly bent over and looked into my face from about two inches away (I think he was looking for one of his regular girls and all blonde strippers look alike, you know). That was a surprising moment, to say the least. And the biggest “celebrity†I met while escorting was a high-ranking executive for an Internet company (the company is a household name but he wasn’t). Still, it wasn’t like he had a problem paying his electric bill.
None of this has moved me a bit. In June, I went to see a reading given by Jacqueline Carey. And I was star-struck.
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