Stripping down Strip Clubs

by: Colin Farrell (no...not that one)

Okay, so strip clubs. i'm really torn on the subject. i mean, i've never in my life claimed to hate boobs. they're fantastic, nothing else needs to be said. but i'm really of two minds when it comes to actually visiting these fine establishments. they're fun, they're funny, you get to drink beer and look at naked broads. fine. as i've explained many times, it's more humorous than it is exciting. that having been said, the beer is almost always overpriced (unless you're talking about al's diamond cabaret, byob) the broads are rarely consistently hot, and are generally overbearing - working you over for a lapdance ten times in an hour.

Speaking of which... i've never once in my life had a lapdance. don't want one. since the first time i experienced blueballs, i've been trying to avoid ever suffering from the condition again. so, why pay some woman $60 to provide something i steer clear of? that's like running 10 miles to go shopping with your girlfriend: a terrible waste of resources, to experience something unbearable. however, sometimes it's a very good time. buy your buddy a lapdance from an ugly stripper. make fun of the creepy old bastards openly ogling the dancers, in an effort to make yourself feel better about actually being there. throw dollar bills when given the target, etc. all good stuff. and sometimes, the strippers surprisingly make good conversation with you (after they realize you are not going to buy a dance, and are not trying to bang them). rare, but entertaining when it happens. here's the worst part. and it's terrible. let's say you're sitting at the bar, and they have dancers performing on the bar top as well as the stage. well, they go around and do a little dance right in front of you. you have to be polite and look and smile, and occasionally give out a dollar (in addition to that $8 bud you're drinking). generally, the girl dancing looks at you when she gets in front of you, a mutual smile is exchanged rather than any words, and she stares off into the distance while dropping her ass to her heels right in front of you - the whole time considering what she needs to pick up at the grocery store after work. SOMETIMES, she's dancing, you look at the situation in front of you and casually look up, to find that the dancer is accidentally looking back down at you and you make eye contact. THE WORST! (i've killed bitches for looking me in the eye)

In that brief second where you're sharing a confused grin, you both realize how terrible it is that you're in your respective positions. it puts a damper on the evening and you have to drink a lot more to not feel bad about yourself. of course, feeling bad about yourself is a big part of the reason you go to strip clubs in the first place. or maybe that's just the catholic in me talking. either way, you can understand why i don't go that often. well, that and the time i got VD from sitting on a bar stool. differenty story though.