Memoirs of a Lesbian Door Whore

AKA A guide on how to make people cry whilst avoiding getting shanked.

I am a door whore for gay nightclubs. Many moons ago, I was lucky enough to be born a foreign lesbian, with a spoon full of bin juice fed to me intravenously by my car crash of a mother. This might have affected me. I have always been averse to cocks of all shapes and sizes, so imagine my surprise when I realised that I would be pursuing a career in which I had to deal with absolute cocks every weekend.

In today’s gay society, the modern door whore goes through a mixture of dismay, boredom, suicidal and homicidal thoughts, as well as an array of ugly faces, entitled fuckers and hideous outfit choices on a daily basis. It makes us bitter, bitter, BITTER, and we like it. The following are some examples of my favourite clientele.

 


CASE STUDY 1: 

Daddy’s Kensington Princess 

Her name is usually Imogen. She had never worked a day in her life until she finished uni, then went straight into working for PR. Usually wears ASOS, or any other high street type of shops. She is usually between ages 23-29. She’s got long hair that she hasn’t cut since she was 12. Why bother when you’ve found your style? She swears by Michael Kors, she does. Usually she comes with four to six identical-looking girls who have heard that the gays love this place, and it’s a blast. Apparently. She is usually polite in a dismissive kind of way until she hears the dreaded no. She has never EVER in her life heard that no; daddy never said no to her. Cue feet stomping. Daddy/uncle/brother/next door neighbour is always a lawyer and he is gonna ruin you. Do you hear me? RUIN you if she is not let in immediately. More times than not she will get her iPhone out and start taking the photos for the future lawsuit. I suggest pose like it’s Vogue’s ‘16-‘17 spring/summer collection. It’s fun.

 

CASE STUDY 2: 

Hen Party Time 

I blame gay men for this phenomenon. The girl in question is clever, she doesn’t attempt full assault on the first go. Oh no. She comes at first in her Scouse brow and her maxi flowery frock, with red raw shoulder blades, (frostbite hits you when you are not wearing a coat in -1). She has genuinely spent a lot of money on this look, but somehow manages to look like Svetlana, my next door neighbour with a penchant for ten pound blow jobs. It is really an achievement. The clever part is she comes with a gay. A fabulous mincing, fake-eyebrowed, Westwood-wearing treasure. He is the ‘bait’ you see. Because of him and his fabulousness, she gets in. Next time there is couple of them, all identical, still with the ‘bait’ so they get in, again. But the third time, she is too relaxed, too cocky, so she forgets the bait and arrives just with her girlfriends. Guess what? One of them is getting married to Kevin from her primary school and they are coming in here ‘cos gays are such a laugh. I don’t fucking think so love. Tell you what, for you and your pink feather boa, it’s guestlist only.

 

CASE STUDY 3: 

The Ragged Backwards-Through-The-Bush Fag Hag

Sandra has been clubbing with her gayboys like its 1996 for 20 years now. Her usual preferred type of gay men are muscle guys or bears. She’s had a crush on one of them for the last 15 years. She has been a fixture of a gay scene since it was invented. She has tried to go dykey that one time, but alas she didn’t like the salty taste of minge and so what’s a girl to do? In this time she has managed one whole shag and maybe a pill-induced snog from a gay boy or two, back when pills Mitsubishi were on the scene and were so strong I tried seducing a seagull whilst on one in Brighton. Remember me Brian? Anyway, that was all fun and games, but now she’s pushing her late 40’s, the partying has taken a toll. Gone were the days when she would dress up or care about her general demeanour. She can’t even remember what music she likes anymore. Or what a big straight cock in her mouth looks like either. Tough times babes. Let her in.

 

CASE STUDY 4:

Straight Lads 

“Get yer tits out for the lads! GET.YER.TITS.OUT! Oi Oi!”

Boring Barrys always come in a group or ‘flock’ of arseholes, as it’s scientifically known. They’ve got their Saturday night trousers on and their near-identical shirts. These are never tucked in. Criminal isn’t it? They heard that there are lots of fit birds in gay clubs, so they will sacrifice their time and ignore their uncomfortable feelings around gay guys just for a shag. They might shout ‘dyke’ or ‘poof’ from their car at you on the weekdays, however now they’re here, they’ll tell you how accepting they are of “you lot” and really don’t mind your “lifestyle choice”. Of all people in this world, this group I love to say no to the most. Actually saying no to them induces a half orgasm in me. Not only that, but I love mentioning how homoerotic they all look in their super duper cutesy same outfits. Do you watch straight porn together, suck each other off, then pretend it ain’t gay? Bet you do. How about you show me that big straight meaty cock on the door and I might let you in. How much you do you really wanna come in here?

Disclaimer: The brave, cute cock-showing ones are OK to come in and get pounced on. They’ll thank me for it one day.

 

CASE STUDY 5: 

“I am here to rob phones and your bags. Ta.”  

He looks dodgy, he smells dodgy, and his pointy shoes under boot-cut jeans SCREAM dodgy. He comes with a female friend sporting roots down to her knees, pretending they are a couple in love. If I spotted him on a plane I would seriously tell the staff from Gatwick to go and check if their doors were locked. Make sure you wave your finger in a motion that indicates “No!”. Just be careful if you open your mouth, he’ll steal your gold fillings.

 

• Readers; should this guide help any of you trying to excel in your door whore jobs, or just allow you to get into clubs without making an absolute show of yourselves, now or in the future, my job will be done. 

 Do you have any complaints, questions or queries? Because I don’t give a fuck. 

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