Adventures in a strip-club…

Saturday night, I planned to meet up for dinner for a friend’s birthday, then to head to see my comedy troupe perform. (I took a slight break from performing due to mental illness being too busy, but I’ll be back with them in a few weeks.)

Dinner was at Matt’s El Rancho, and per usual, was extremely crowded and took about an hour longer than normal restaurants do. Thus, by the time I had finished eating, it was really too late to make the show. By that point I was already about 2 margaritas in and up for practically anything, so when someone suggested we take our party to a strip club, I was like “hells yeah! I want to see some TITTTEEEHHHHHSSSS.”

I’ve been to my share of strips back in the day. My college friends were big fans of the “Legs and Eggs” buffet specials after the bars closed. I was even “lucky” enough to spend my 18th birthday in a strip club, thanks to the fact that most of my girlfriends had already left for college and I was stuck with a group of fresh out of high school boys.

This time was different though.

Perhaps it is because this was the first time in many years that I’d entered a club when I wasn’t completely obliterated. I’m trying my best to exercise control and moderation when it comes to alcohol, and I had definitely never been so clear-headed around so many boobies at once.

I was completely enthralled at watching the dance moves. I was amazed by how strong most of  the women were, and how much will-power they must have to maintain such tight, yet bouncy figures.

It took everything I had not to ask if I could trade in the stack of $1s that my boyfriend handed me for a turn on the pole. To be clear, I didn’t want to take my clothes off, I just wanted to see if I could hold myself up with my legs out. It looks extremely difficult.

Mostly, I was completely in awe at the way these women could walk around with so much confidence WITHOUT their clothes on. I mentioned in a recent post that I’ve come along way when it comes to my own self confidence and comfort with my body. Still, I can barely walk around naked in front people who know me, much less in front of 10’s of strangers.

Still, I couldn’t turn off the part of my brain that wanted to take each girl out into the hallway and have a serious talk about whether or not this was the path they want to take in life.

Look. I am definitely not the judgmental type. I’m very open minded when it comes to life choices, and I’m definitely not the type of woman who thinks there is something shameful about the human body. You can do whatever you want to with your body, as long as you are in control and know there are other ways to make money. I am also quite aware that most of these young women make much, much more money  than I do. I just couldn’t help but wince every time I saw a guy slap one of the women on the ass, or make a grab at a boob.

I honestly don’t know how a strip club is supposed to make me feel. On the one hand it was exciting, liberating even, to watch women strip down to nothing and put on a show. In some ways I’m jealous. I wish that for one day, I could have that sort of confidence. Even with my clothes on, I don’t walk with my chin up or my hips swinging.

On the other hand, it  left me feeling sad. I tried to shake off the stereotypes I have about dancers, and tried to keep in mind that despite the hardships they have at home or the factors that lead them to choose this line of work, it was their choice to be there. I tried to remember that stripping is not always a gateway to a harder life of drugs or abuse, but that it can also just be a means to pay for school or to feed a family.

Regardless of my mixed feelings, I tried to let loose and make the most of the experience. At some point, I even allowed a woman to take me off to a table for a lap dance. One of the guys at the table bought it after I said I’d never had one before, and I nearly opted out when the topless lady whispered in my ear “I don’t have to dance if you don’t want me to.”

After a slight moment of hesitation, I figured I might as well try something new. At least I would give the girl an opportunity to dance for someone who was more interested in her actual dancing than grabbing her boobs… and I have to say it was kind of fun. I was only slightly uncomfortable when she smooshed her giant pierced breasts across my face…. and even though I quickly made her stop-I’m glad that I can now say that I once had a stripper hum into my vagina.



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