Hobo Stripper

If you're interested in alternative lifestyles, check out Hobo Stripper. From her profile...

I live in a van. Yeah, down by the river. And I dance nekkid for money.

It's a lifestyle choice with built in adventure.

Out of her seat, she moved fast for the dressing room door. “You motherfuckin fucked with my girl, fuckers,” was her battle cry.

I stared after her, not sure what to do with the innocence that was still new to me. I was a pacifist and this girl who’d always been rude to me was probably out there kicking some ass on my behalf.

I stepped tentatively into the hall. It was absolute chaos, Nikki yelling and fists flying everywhere. The closet was still open, and I slipped into it and turned the hose off. That’s where I was standing, in the moldy closet, when I heard the bikes outside and realized the building was surrounded.

I’d been told to go to the dressing room if the bikers ever had to show up and handle a situation like this, so I did.

Soon Nikki and the bartender joined me. We gave Nikki aspirin and pressed ice against her bruises, ignoring the sounds of twenty something bikers beating the shit out of forty something college boys outside the dressing room.

Not as exotic as Grindergirl. I still got lost in her blog posts for quite a while.