So, not too long ago, an acquaintance of mine celebrated their birthday at a local gentleman’s club here in the city. I had been invited to attend this celebration but I declined because… well, strip clubs are kind of wack. In my opinion, that is. I don’t want to knock anyone else’s recreational activity – by all means, if you enjoy the environment then keep on enjoying it.
But I have to take a stand against dudes acting as though disinterest in strip clubs is an offense worthy of Y-Chromosome removal.
My acquaintance tells me all about his experience the following day. The unmitigated joy that he and his guests experienced. The dancing, the nudity, the drinking, the girls. Oh, the girls were so nice to them all, he said. “You should’ve gone, bro,” he said. “You missed out. I can’t believe you didn’t come. Why wouldn’t you want to come out and see some girls?”
And here we cross our first misconception that some dudes have about strip clubs; that this is the best - if not only - place to go to see girls. In truth…
…Girls Can Also Be Found Elsewhere.
Regular clubs, for instance. And the crazy thing about a girl at a regular club is you don’t necessarily have to pay to dance with her (okay, you might have to buy the girl a drink or two, but often times you need only be charming, or good looking, or both, or just catch her on a good night). Also, when you dance with her, you can actually dance WITH her. Sometimes, if they really like you, they let you touch them without calling over Bruiser and Knuckles McMurphy to rough you up and throw you into the street after she already warned you about the club’s hands off policy.
Another thing about girls at the regular club, there’s a much better chance that if they’re showing interest in you, it’s genuine. Conversely…
…Strippers Don’t Actually Like You.
If a stripper makes you think that she likes you, that just means she’s really good at her job. Or that you’re reading way too much into a $5 lapdance. I know the rappers make it sound like it’s routine to take strippers home, but they’re spending hundreds – possibly thousands – of dollars on the girl they want to take home. They’re not “making it rain” singles, my man. A pocket full of Washingtons does not a baller make. You, Mr. Average Dude, have a infinitesimal chance at getting that girl home. Didn’t you see Player’s Club? She’s not interested in you, she’s on the clock. If you ask for her number she’s going laugh it off and say, “You’re so precious,” and then move to the next dude with a twenty on the table.
If you follow her home – and this is important - she’s going to call the police.
Don’t brag to your boys about a girl you met at a strip club. Don’t tell stories about how nice she was, how she looked into your eyes when she danced and you could feel a connection and you could tell that she thought you were different. It’s just sad. Preach-saying-goodbye-to-Cochise-in-Cooley-High sad. Tall-building-leaping, cape-wearing, super-sad.
For Example…
All of this may seem harsh, but think about this: if you told a strip club story to your friend but removed the strip club setting, that exchange would go something like this…
“Yo, fam, Jasmine invited me over to the house the other night. As soon as I walked in, she sat me down in a chair, turned the lights down, put on some music and started dancing for me.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. It was hot. Next thing I know, she’s taking off her clothes, dancing on my lap. Teasing me, telling me not to touch. Driving me crazy.”
“Damn. So how was she when you two finally went at it?”
“…huh?”
“When you took her to the bedroom and had sex with her. How was the sex?”
“Oh… nah, we didn’t go that far.”
“You didn’t? Why not? She changed her mind or…?”
“Nah, that was never the intent. I was just supposed to visit her, watch her dance and then leave.”
“Did you go see another girl after you left Jasmine’s?”
“No. I just went home with the memory of her dancing in my head as inspiration to… you know… ‘take care of myself.’ You know what I mean? Eh? Eh?”
“First off, stop fucking winking at me. Secondly, what?”
“Trust me, seeing her dance was twenty dollars well spent.”
“Twenty dollars just to see her dance? Don’t you have Cinemax? The internet? There are more cost effective ways to see naked women.”
“Not in person.”
“Does it really matter that it’s ‘in person’ if you can’t touch or do anything with her? She might as well be a hologram.”
“It matters, all right? It matters. What kind of guy doesn’t think seeing naked girls in person is cool, and completely worth it even if you have to pay for it? What did you end up doing last night anyway?”
“I spent it with my girlfriend. Having sex. A lot. We went to Blockbuster and rented a movie, and then after we got home we stopped watching the movie about halfway through and just started doing it all over the place. Completely wiped ourselves out. I had to call in to work today. That’s how my night went.”
“Well, that’s an okay night. I guess. She didn’t dance for you though…”
“… … Man, get the hell out of my house.”
In Conclusion
Strip clubs just aren’t that cool. Sure, there are exceptions – I’m sure there are awesome, posh joints out there where millionaires congregate to close deals and pick up dates, but for the average dude that you and I know, it’s really nothing special. If it’s your thing, that’s cool, but don’t talk about it like it was a trip to Vegas or Disney World or the Super Bowl or something.
If your boy isn’t a fan of the strip club scene it doesn’t mean that he’s gay (NTTAWWT) or less of a man. He probably just thinks strip clubs are kind of wack.
And you know what… he’s right…
