I was on stage when I noticed a friendly looking attractive man sitting by himself dressed in a suit and tie. He motioned me over once I stepped off stage and bought me a glass of champagne. After some small talk he ordered a glass of ice. He asked me to hold the glass with both hands. I picked up the glass and asked him if he wanted a dance from me. He took a hundred dollar bill from his wallet.
"I'll pay you a hundred dollars to sit with me for ten minutes in the bubble lounge and pretend that you're dead. Don't move, try not to breath, and keep holding that glass of ice until right before we start our time."
Sure, why not? I figured it would be the easiest dance I'd give all day. However, you get what you pay for and he proved himself bat shit crazy by the time our ten minutes was up.
"Do you have hair extensions?" He asked right before we started. By now my hands were starting to become numb and ache with cold.
"Is it real human hair?"
"Oh wow." he started to play with my hair his excitement inherently obvious. "You know where they get the hair?" he asked, his voice shaking with arousal."
"Corpses... cadavers. This is probably some beautiful dead Indian woman's hair."
That did it. I set down the glass quickly signally the time was now starting. The entire session he played with my arms and legs, arranging them in different poses I thought about the hundred and tried not to think about where the extensions on my head really came from.