Monday, March 2, 2009

The Axe Was Everywhere: My first strip club experience

Originally written some time in October

I went to a strip club last night.  Yep, a male strip club.  Went onstage, got a lap dance and saw more penis and bum than I’ve ever seen before.  It was an absolute blast. 

We got in and were seated in big, cushioned chairs on wheels, right at the front of the stage.  I looked around and was awed; a huge brass-railing jungle, glimmering red, green and black lights, steady gino beats intermingled with Nickelback, and cologne thicker than the first floor the The Bay.  Instantly we were welcomed by two very muscular, very unusually smooth men who kissed us on our cheeks and whispered in our ears.  I felt very welcomed and special. 

I ordered a glass of the house white (just because you’re in a place where hormones and shaved genitals run rampant doesn’t mean you can’t be classy) and as I sipped, ladies from the audience were encouraged to fake orgasms to win dildos.  A nice start to the evening. 

Our first performer was a man dressed in leather and bad sunglasses.  He danced and at first no one was screaming or clapping for him…until I saw an older woman go up, a fiver in her cleavage, and wait patiently for him to notice her.  He did and for thirty seconds she was in heaven, made to feel special.  Then another lady went up and another…apparently he catered to the older, bleached blonde, momjeans crowd.  These women went up again and again, showering him with fives and closing their eyes each time he held their waist.  Part of me found it funny, and part of me found it sad.  Mostly I kept thinking to myself “please don’t ever let me end up like that.”  I really don’t want to be the lonely regular at the strip club who gets her cheques cashed in fives.  I don’t want the only thing that makes my loins quiver to be an oiled-up man at the strip club in Barrie.  I don’t want to bring my daughter to the strip club (seriously, there were least three mother-daughter pairs there). 

Eventually my friend paid for me to go onstage and I ended up on the ground with a man named Enrique.  He was dressed as a sailor and was both an officer and a gentleman…well, that is, when he wasn’t dry-humping my hip bone.  Later in the evening, the girls paid for me to get a lap dance from Enrique.  Picture this: I’m in my chair, laughing my ass off as this sweaty, unusually smooth (really, no hair whatsoever!) guy is taking off his pants in front of me….he proceeds to ‘mount’ me and as he thrusts into me, my chair falls backwards. 

Yes, I was in the broken chair.  When he pumped, we fell backwards. 

It was possibly the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened to me. We laughed, got up and I tried to make awkward and unnecessary chitchat (as I’m prone to do) for the rest of the dance.  When he was done, he told me I had nice boobs.  I took it as a compliment because he probably doesn’t say it to all the girls, right? 

It was interesting how business-like, yet convincing the men were; at one moment they’re looking deep into a woman’s eyes and kissing her hand, and the next they’re looking around the room, eagerly seeking that next person they can entertain.  I found this was the case when Enrique was on top of me, rubbing his penis somewhere around my lower stomach region.  No talking, just business.  I felt used.  Funny how that worked… 

Interesting, too, how many emotions and thoughts I had throughout the night; I was sad and embarrassed for the guys who didn’t make much or get many screams.  I was filled with pity for the 50-something women hopeful for that touch in the right spot.  I laughed at the acts and felt ashamed when the men, many of whom were all the way down to naked, crawled around on the ground to pick up their bills at the end of their set.  I was horny.  I was uncomfortable.  

Lots if people say stripping is wrong and indecent and raunchy; it objectifies men and women and makes sex lewd – and to some extent yes, it does.  But how is it any different from watching porn, or a guy wanting to give his girlfriend a ‘facial’, or whatever else we do behind closed doors?  We all fantasize, and a strip club is just one way to bring the fantasy to life.  I mean, we had cops, prisoners, firefighters…these were the things dreams are made of! 

The strip club was a fun and eye-opening experience.  Harmless fun with a group of girlfriends, a little more serious for those older desperate women, and even though my friend went back again and got propositioned by a pimp, it’s something I’d do againin a few years.

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