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“Did you hear about the zombies?”“The what?” Ryan glances over his shoulder, and immediately has to bite his lip to stop a laugh from popping out.The customer is jerking himself off with surprising vigor, a slightly vacant expression on his face. People will talk about the weirdest and unexpected shit in spite of the fact that they’re actively jerking off to a strip-show, although this one might take the cake.Ryan recovers and returns to his dance. He’s not doing this for charity after all, and he could use a decent tip tonight. Private customers like this one usually had the kind of cash they were willing to throw away on a stripper that gave them a good show.“There’s been some incidents where some people… Fuck,” the customer throws his head back and slows his hand. “…they thought they were attacked by zombies.”“Oh, really?” Ryan hasn’t heard of this and doesn’t really care; probably a bunch of tweakers losing their shit because someone bit them during a bad trip. It’s always zombies, aliens, Bigfoot, the boogeyman, until the footage came out and it ended up being some dude in a suit or some kid’s drone flashing in the night.Ryan’s not worried about zombies.He is worried about his back giving out before this dance is over, though, because it’s been a long day and boy is he feeling it in his lumbar. Unfortunately, it features prominently in a lot of sexy dancing, so Ryan tolerates it and hopes the customer gets off soon enough.“Yeah, yeah,” the customer pants. “A lady in Bel-Air said a sick-looking guy attacked her, and uh, uh…”Ryan turns his back on him for a moment, shaking his ass, but he can still hear the sound of wet slapping. Any faster and this guy’s gonna set his dick on fire.“…and a guy downtown got jumped on by a lady who bit him on the neck. And the video of that teenager biting his friends in Van Nuys.”For a moment Ryan slows, almost stumbles- that does sound kinda weird, especially considering how spread-out those cases are. “All recently?”“Just from yesterday.”Huh. Maybe Ryan ought to check that out once he gets off tonight.But first he needs to get this guy off.Ryan sinks to his knees on the edge of the platform, rolls his body gently so it seems like he’s thrusting towards the customer. “You almost there?” He teases, running his hands over his body.The man’s almost in tears. “Are you sure you don’t-?”“Yes, I’m sure,” Ryan says, only narrowly managing to stop from snapping. He doesn’t touch the customers, and he has fired other dancers for doing so. He’s not getting arrested for prostitution, not this fucking lifetime. “I can only give you a show, buddy.” Ryan turns, presents himself to the customer and allowing himself an eye-roll once the guy can’t see him.“God, show me your ass,” the man moans.Ryan has to bite his tongue again.These people never pay him enough not to laugh, but somehow he manages.(Usually.)A sound like a strangled rooster signals that his customer has crossed the finish line. Ryan gives it a moment- a long moment, because it’s important that the customer not feel like they’re being rushed out- but then puts his (sexy) customer service face on and says, “Did you enjoy yourself?”“Christ, yes,” the customer sighs.Ryan has to avoid the urge to pump his fist in delight when the man produces a few hundreds from his pocket. “You have a wonderful night, sir. Hope to see you around again.”“Oh, you will.”Once the door is shut, Ryan sags with relief.Now maybe he should go ahead and Google that zombie shit. -End