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"Some say Khaled, some say Khaleeedddd."

I question sometimes how much my closest friends and family know me. I guess, that's based on their reactions to things I share or how they advise me. I don't know.

Here's an example:

Some years ago,while I was living in Atlanta, Michelle and Nai came to visit. We hung out with Eric, a friend and business partner of Michelle. Eric was super down for a good time.

We went to Platinum 21, a strip club that Eric frequented.

Our table was to the front, against the stage. Eric distributed money so we could show our appreciation to the dancers and splurged on bottles. It was a good fuckin' time. Michelle and Eric disappeared for a short moment. Low and behold, we were now getting lap dances. Apparently, when they'd stepped off, they had selected what they thought would be our "taste" in women.

I got a young lady who was tatted and pierced everywhere visible. Meanwhile on stage, there was this princess giving a beautiful interpretive dance to DJ Khaled's "We Takin Over". I'm pretty sure she was only dancing to pay college tuition. I was certain of it. Instead of stilettos, she was wearing platforms. She was stomping, VIOLENTLY to the Akon chorus. Why not her? To this day, I've questioned how well my friends know me, to have brought me this scallywag instead of the 'platformed princess'.

SN: Long after our $ was out, men around the stage continued to pay her to give me lap dances. I was baffled as to why she continued to be present. I fought her aggressive attempts to put my hands over her tits cause we'd turned into a show of our own.

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