It was the first time I had ever been to a
strip club. A true feat, I used to think, since I had been of age to attend these
swanky joints for quite some time. I'd always thought of myself as some
sex-crazed maniac, but when the situation to attend these places presented itself, I took on a passive interest.
I went with a good friend that amusingly fit a great
stereotype. He was a
furloughed marine that had come back from a recent
war; he was looking for some "action."
We arrived around 9:30ish, and we had to pay a hefty cover charge. The place was packed. Apparently, this was some kind of "special" strip club night, hence the absurd covercharge. I didn't see what was so special, though. I caught the word from the announcer: "OK,
gentlemen. You've worked hard all weekend, and now it's time to relax with the "ATM Girls" from
Bolivia." What the hell? "ATM Girls" from
Bolivia!? My friend and I just looked at each other. I could imagine them all standing around before the place opened, throwing
darts at a world map.
When you walked in, you were in the middle of a
rectangular room. The bar and dancing area made up the rightmost portion of the room. The rest of the area was riddled with tables. Directly across from where we were standing, there was an
annexed square room that had walls high enough to block the sight of some bar patron, but not high enough to block everyone's
intuition of its purpose. It was the lap dance room.
We situated ourselves in the middle of the sea of chairs. This worked out pretty well. You see, we're not very wealthy, so we could only afford to bring about 30 bucks collectively. The place was pretty packed, so that made it exceedingly difficult for dancers to manuever themselves into the middle for tip money.
We were there for an hour or so when we began to realize this interesting phenomenon. You see, strippers seem to have this incredible knack for
social engineering. A man educated in the art of negotiation will realize he's being coaxed to no end, yet he will still succumb. The idea of a woman laughing at all your jokes and hanging on to every word you say is such a odd turn of events for most men. It's a hard trap not to fall into. And we had proof. Guys were
tripping head over heels to get
lap dances from these women.
That was the funny part. There are many emotions that take place from the time you get up from your seat to the time you're finished with a lap dance. The first emotion is a
boyish excitement. Hey, you're going to have some woman grind herself all over you! What could be better!? The second emotion is somewhat varied. On the way to the lap dance room, you are practically paraded in front of everyone. This is when you'll get some of the funniest acts. Most people are embarassed as hell, forgetting the fact that everyone else is there for the same reason they are. Other people try to act cool, putting on the facade as if the stripper is actually paying them. And others, well, others are just so concentrated on getting a lap dance, they
don't give two shits to their appearance. The third emotion is the saddest to see. It takes place after the lap dance. People have realized how much money they have spent for a simple ten minutes of
grinding and
dry humping. You'll see these people with their head sort of cocked down, dragging their way back to the table. It's the walk of shame.