life Archives - Page 4 of 6 - HeartBrokenStilettos

When airports give you extra excitement

Yesterday I arrived in Paris. I passed the passport control, just needed to get my suitcase and let’s go to work. Bags are coming. You know the strange feeling when there are less and fewer bags on the conveyor belt but you’re still waiting for yours. Waiting… and waiting. Meanwhile, I had lots of thing in my head. I think you realise you travel a lot when you have more problems at the airports with missing bags, delayed or cancelled flights. Well, this year I had enough.

Some of it was my mistake. Just like when I went to Iceland. I planned everything just like the first time I travelled there, called a taxi, Gatwick Express etc.. I was perfectly on time at Gatwick but I didn’t see my flight be shown on the board. I was still not aware of the situation. I even went to complain to the desk and the lady told me “Don’t worry, the check-in will be open soon.” OK, I thought I check my emails until so I wanted to connect to the airport Wifi. I don’t remember so well, but I think it asked my flight number for the Internet or something that again I didn’t find on the list. that’s strange! And in a minute I realised that s***, I’m in perfect time but at the wrong airport!!! My flight is from Heathrow! That’s happening when you do everything from routine. First time I had the flight from Gatwick indeed and now I didn’t even think or check everything properly. I was laughing at myself badly! I don’t know how I could manage to get to Heathrow but I was there before the flight took off. (If you know the distance between the 2 airports and the traffic in London you know, if not, trust me, that was a miracle.) And if I wouldn’t have had the suitcase that needs to be checked in, they could just let me go through the gates. The security guy apologised a hundred times, but I couldn’t be angry because it was my stupidity. I just smiled at him and booked a new ticket for the next day.

I was not so lucky leaving Japan either. I changed the date of my return flight once online, they charged me extra for that, and then I quit from the club so I needed to change it again. I called the BA, the lady was very helpful and explained to me that they would charge me again for the changing plus I have to pay the difference between the price of the flights. OK, this is the price of the service. But then I checked the tickets, and the one-way return ticket from Tokyo to London cost 1000£ more than I paid for the original ticket! No way, I chose to buy a new ticket with another airline and cancelled this booking. I wrote an email to claim for the refund. I got an answer weeks later: BA was lovely to give me a refund of 40 pence! For a second I thought it’s a kinda joke but they were serious and send it to my bank account. I think the whole bank transaction cost more than that 40pence… Again, I was just laughing at them.

Some other situation was not so funny. Once I flew back to London from Geneva and we had to land in Paris for a technical reason. We were waiting on the plane while technicians came and checked the doors and the vacuum in the aircraft. Hours later the pilot was apologising that we couldn’t take off, but they couldn’t fix the problem and didn’t want to take a risk as “We flew with a half-broken flight to Paris..” But they give us food and hotel rooms for a night. Lots of people got angry because they missed the flight connection but I felt quite happy that they didn’t want to take this kind of risk.

But the most unforgettable story was in Belgium. My friend and I finished the work on the 23rd of December and we wanted to get home for Christmas. On the way to the airport started snowing. We thought it’s gonna be OK as flights take off in the snow, so no problem. But it became heavy snow and the road was slippery, the driver couldn’t go fast. The timing was already very bad and we were sitting in the car intense, none of us wanted to miss that flight. I think we arrived at the airport at the very last minute. We were running to the check-in but what a surprise! It was still a huge queue before us. The airline company couldn’t decide if the plane takes off or not but they let us checking-in and wait on the plane. We were waiting there for hours still hoping that we go home on that day. Suddenly my friend poked my shoulder “Look!” We saw from the window that people were getting off from the plane next to us. That was not a good sign! Shortly after the pilot told us the get off too. There was no plane from that airport that night, all flight were cancelled. (If you remember that was a few years back when the same happened in Paris and lots of flight were cancelled and airports were closed because of heavy snow in Europe.) We stuck at the airport. It was cold, no food, and we didn’t sleep all night. They actually closed the whole airport for the night, only one pub decided to stay open and serve the people at least with alcohol to keep us warm and later the Red Cross came to give us hot tea and coffees. That was not the night I cry for in my life. But sure I will never forget. Since then if someone sings the White Christmas, this is the first thing that comes to my mind.

There were just so many people and there were not enough replacement buses or places in hotels nearby. We put on all our warm clothes and waiting for the snow to stop. That was almost in the morning when we got a crazy taxi driver who drove us in the snowfall through Bruxelles. We decided to try the International airport. Charleroi is a smaller airport, we thought if there are flights in the morning they must be from the International airport as they start to clean the bigger airports first. We were right and at least they had the Starbuck’s open! But we needed to book new tickets and the queue was already huge in front of the ticket office before opening. When we finally got to the desk, we didn’t think when the lady told us the price. We just paid. This story has a happy ending as we both were at the Christmas dinner with our family in that year. Luckily.

Just as my story today. My luggage finally arrived. They said it was some mistakes, they couldn’t find them (as I was not the only one with missing bags). So a bit later, but arrived. Now I’m sitting in the apartment with all my stuff with me. (I don’t know what to do if they say by mistake my luggage with all the stripper costumes landed let’s say somewhere in Chicago.) But now I’m relaxed. In the end, everything goes well.

So if you are about to travel anywhere in the World: I wish you a safe trip!

To my dear A.,

I’m writing here in an open letter to say thank you for your wonderful friendship. We are in a different part of the World, our paths are not crossing often, but you are always in my heart. I’d like to say a big thank you for all your support, either way, it was financial or emotional. There were hard and difficult times in my Life and I will never forget that you gave me a helping hand to get over with. I also say thank you for all your advice. I’m a bit stubborn sometimes to listen to anybody else but myself and I apologise if I did not follow them. But often they showed me the path I need to start to walk on and move forward.

You were with me almost from the beginning since I work in the night. You’ve seen me happy and sad, angry and disappointed, sometimes drunk. Thank you for listening to all my complains about other girls, my bosses and my crazy stories about stupid situations.

I’m saying thank you again for all your presents. For the chocolates and perfumes, little jewellery every time we met. Even the little things make a big difference. We were not in a romantic relationship, but you always paid attention to make me feel special. Thank you for being so generous to me all the time.

And thank you for the best birthday present I’ve ever got in my life! Since I started to travel, the camera is always with me. You helped me to take all those beautiful pictures I took on my trips. You made it all possible for me. It’s like a part of you always with me when I climb a rock or wait for the sunset. I ensure you I use that camera at my very best knowledge.

I write this letter because since I started this blog, I have lots of old memories coming up. And you were my best customer ever who became a friend. And I’m writing you this letter here because I want to show to others that we strippers not only golddiggers. We can say thank you and we mean it when you treat us as a woman, not like a piece of meat. We also can appreciate the money that the guys spend on us. And the friendship between a dancer and her customer does exist!

Dear A., your friendship always means a lot to me!

Wish you all the best in Life and God bless you!

Lots of love,

Lindsay

My dog-lover ex

I love animals. Although I’m a cat person, I do love dogs as well. Ok, not those portable handbag dogs. They are cute but for me, the meaning of a dog starts somewhere a normal height. But after experiencing this story I was not able even to look at them for a while.

I was dating a guy who had a small female dog. Of course, I knew him from the club I used to work at that time. But I thought he is a fantastic man. We shared the same way of thinking, a similar mentality from the beginning, same interest. He was a strong character, manly, like a big silent warrior. You know the kind you know you can rely on. He will be there any time you need him. So what about the dog then? No, the story is not that bad as you think, but definitely one of the weirdest that ever happened to me.

For me, his relationship with his dog was acceptable but not quite alright. Maybe I was overreacting but sometimes he gave more attention to the dog than to me. I have made comments about it and he just said I’m jealous of the dog. But he also told me he loves her more than anything else and she has the priority in his life. Because she taught him what real love is. When we had sex I asked him not to let her in the room and he agreed. But when we finished he oped the door and the dog jumped in the bed. He immediately started to play with her, stroke her and I was scratching my head that WTF? I just gave him a blowjob and swallowed his sperm and he’s pampering the dog more than me? All those intimate moments have vanished in a second.

But the main issue was not that. When I first saw the dog humping and cuming on his arm I found the situation funny. Dogs do it on random things, sometimes on a toy or on your leg. The second time I still didn’t want to see the warning signals. But at the 3rd, 4th, 5th times it was bizarre! When I realised that is part of the daily routine, this fantastic, strong guy became so small in my eyes. He lost all my respect. But how can I respect a man who is misunderstanding his own feelings and project his love for a dog? Lonely people often do that but in a sexual way? I felt pity for him. And we had a huge argument. He didn’t want to understand why it’s a problem, animals need that too, it’s nature. Is it nature to pat me in the same way as the dog or using the same words when he made his dog cum than he used with me? That’s sick man!

Psychologically I understand him. He lost his mother and he suppresses lots of love and he became a sad person. Then he got the dog, someone that he can love and take care of. I just don’t know how it became linked with his sexual habits. I’d love to hear what a psychoanalyst would say about that.. how did this become such a habit for him, more important than a woman next to him? When we had an argument I even asked him if he knows that in some countries it’s legal to marry a dog (according to an Australian guy who married his labrador) All he could say it was that he promises me not to do it again front of me! He didn’t understand it’s just way too wrong! He thought it’s not a big deal. It is a big deal! He thought I’m asking him to choose between me and his dog. He didn’t get the point that I ask him to choose between me and his habit. I knew I have to make my decision to accept him with his dog or get my stuff and run away. I told him to ask any healthy-minded woman, none of them would expect that from a guy they want to build a relationship with. So the guy slowly disappeared from my life. In the end, I was the bad one who doesn’t like animals. I do like them. But I love and respect myself more than to stay in this situation.

I often wonder what if I’m not a dancer? Still, can I have all these interesting stories about dating and weird guys all over the planet? Or am I overreacting something here?

I’m curious what other women would do in the same situation…

I’m a stripper and you can ask anything you want to know..

Let’s play this game. You can ask me anything – seriously anything – about my work, I will give you an honest answer.

I got emails often and the most popular question is how I became a stripper. I used to get male attention since I started modelling at the age of 16. That time I had lots of fight with my dad – no real fights, no verbal or physical abuse, more of a cold war. He didn’t show interest in me, so I was seeking this attention somewhere else. Yes, in my case the psychological cliché as every stripper has daddy issues is true. But during my work years, I’ve seen the proof of the opposite too.

After portrait modelling, I started to do nude modelling. I was always proud of my body and I had trust in the photographers I worked with. I worked in Austria and Italy a lot so I got a bit of a chance to travel. But this time we only speak about artistic nude photography. Like a naked girl, painted in gold standing in the middle of a lake as a statue. Austrian photographers love bodypainting and they are quite creative. I really enjoyed those workshops. But of course, I met different photographers with different offers. I was relatively young and naïve, and the amount of money was very tempting. So slowly I got involved in the adult industry. But this I didn’t enjoy that much. I enjoyed spending the money I made (when I studied on the university, I’m sure in some months I got bigger salary than my teachers.) or I was happy when I could support my mum with a bigger amount but it came with shame.

The opportunity for dancing came on casting when I was talking with other girls and both were a dancer. I was curious so I asked the contact number of the guy that I can apply to. Very soon I went to Italy and after I was with him at the Austrian embassy signing a 3 months contract and waiting for my visa. The beginning was hard. I still remember the song when I first danced on stage. The other girls gave me enough alcohol not to remember what I was doing (thank God!) but I still remember the song was Get busy by Sean Paul.

When I finished the contract, I had 2 choices: I carry on dancing and I make more money, but then I lose the energy I already invested in my studies. That was after my 2nd year at the university, I was halfway to get my diploma and I’m not the kind of person who gives up easily. I decided to go back and finish my studies. I told myself “If I miss the spotlights, I still can work as a dancer afterwards.” But when I got my diploma, I forgot all about the stage, private dances, selling champagne and extra high stripper shoes. I wanted to have an average life. But that was a difficult time in my country, after a few failures in finding a good job I decided to move to England for 1-2 years. In Hungary, I was already thinking about trying out myself abroad when I was sitting in a job interview and listen to the guy offering me a job in another city, that meant minimum 2,5 hours travel every day, over time, limited access to grow for the minimum salary. That was all that my country could offer me. No, thank you. I quit. I went home from the interview and I bought a one-way ticket to England.

The first year I had a normal job as a nanny. Then I moved to London from the countryside and I found all those dodgy opportunities working at night. I started to work at a hostess club on Little Portland Street to improve my English. I was about talking and selling champagne but no dancing. It was great fun, good money, I didn’t look for other options. Then I changed the club and started to work at the Directors Lodge at St. James. That was the longest time I spent in one club, I worked there for almost 2 years. But still no dancing. Then I had a chance to change working in a restaurant where I was quite disappointed and not long after I was heading to Greece. (you can read more about in the Beginning 2. post)

Long story short, this is my life. This is what made me who I am today. Now I’m not ashamed anymore, I take full responsibility for all my decisions, without regrets. And today I’m brave enough to tell you that you can ask me ANYTHING, I will give you an honest answer.

Happy Moon Cake Festival, China!

“The Mid-Autumn Festival is an official harvest festival celebrated by Chinese, Taiwanese and Vietnamese people. The festival is held on the 15th day of the eighth month in the Chinese calendar during a full moon, which is in September or early October”

Last year at the same time I was there. The celebration was funny, every girl in the club had to wear a white dress while people outside were gathering together for a late night picnic or bbq watching the full moon and the whole place was decorated with colourful lanterns. Macau by night is already lit up with neon coloured lights, all together it made the entire city more vibrant than London with the Christmas lights on Oxford Street.

I really enjoyed my time I spent there, for me Macau is a special place when the gambling spirit mixes with the smell of those Chinese burning sticks. I couldn’t stop myself from taking pictures.

And the absolute favourites were the pandas: