Tales to Tell

I used to live near a naval base and directly across the street was a strip club.  Eventually the naval base closed, and shortly thereafter, the strip club shut down, too, which left me thinking, “Well, of course.”

Now where will you stick your dollar bills?

After reading two articles in the Washington Post this past week about the “trend” of straight women going to strip clubs that feature women dancers (you can find the articles here and here), I’m wondering if that strip club near my house could have survived if only it had been marketed to women.    I’m generally suspicious of these “trend” stories that appear in newspaper style sections, and I’m not convinced that straight women are flocking to strip clubs after reading the Washington Post’s take on it, but I’m willing to consider it, for the sake of this blog post, at least.

The biggest problem I have with the “trend” is that there just doesn’t seem to be a compelling reason why straight women would suddenly find stripping entertaining.  Oh, the author quoted a couple of pointy headed intellectuals trying to explain, like this from noted pointy head Ebony Utley, a professor at Cal State Long Beach.

“I think in the strip club we’ve got a new generation of women that is throwing off the shackles of the politics of respectability,” says Utley, whose research has appeared in academic journals such as “Women and Language.”

Eh, maybe.  There just seem to be better ways to throw off the shackles of politics of respectability (whew!  that is a mouthful!) than to sit around a stuffy, probably smelly, barroom with a bunch of creepy guys pawing at gyrating women who are trying to get me to stuff dollar bills into their undies.  For example, if I really wanted to throw off the shackles of politics of respectability, I’d totally sex the entire men’s cross country team (Go Aggies!) that trains near my house, instead of meekly crossing to the other side of the street to finish my run when they approach.  Take that, shackles of political respectability!

But watching women with bigger breasts and nicer asses than me rub up and down a metal pole?  I don’t see how that’s liberating.  It sounds more like a recipe for exacerbating every personal insecurity I have.  According to one of the articles, here are a few reasons women go to strip clubs:

“Between us girls, I started coming to keep an eye on him,” a woman sitting in the front row at one of the sad, suburban clubs told me behind her husband’s back. While their 3-year-old son slept at home with a sitter, they were in the strip club. She smiled at her husband and said, “We bring home some of what we learn here,” with a wink. “And this way, I know he’s coming home with me.”

That would be me.  I’d tag along with some joke about “picking up pointers” but actually I’d be there to stand guard over my husband, growling and hissing at any dancer who looked at him, and I’d be so pissed he wouldn’t get any for a week.  No, a month.  Make that several months.

Of course, I’m an old married woman now.  Maybe if I were young and on the prowl (yes,

Drunk midget doing her victory dance. Hmmm, well, we thought she was a midget. I wonder if anyone checked her ID . . .

the articles suggest women go to strip clubs to meet men.  This blog post isn’t long enough for me to go into all the reasons why that particular dating strategy is doomed) I might go to a strip club just for the story I could tell afterwards.  Heck, I once entered a beer drinking contest just so I could go up against a female midget little person who was competing.

She drank me under the table, btw.

So have you ever been to a strip club?  What tale do you have to tell?

Royalty free stock photos including the images in this post can be found at Stock.XCHNG and freedigitalphotos.net.

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15 thoughts on “Tales to Tell

  1. sqeekchair says:

    The nonsensical “shackles of the politics of respectability” spoken by a true Mensa giant needs to seriously go to that university’s library, or the nearest erotica store, grab a salesperson and get their help to purchase various toys and detailed instructions in the art of f—ing.
    A snobby, ridiculous climax meme calling card, instead of the blasphemous “Oh Gooooooooooodddd!” does have a funny potential to it.

    I’ve got news for Ebony Utley- The French, Middle East, & Pacific Rim has cuckolded sexuality for thousands of years! Elaborate dildo’s, Kama Sutra, sexual paintings of erotica, ivory carvings, and socially acceptable brothels.

    If you break-down the themes of strip clubs, it is quite silly:
    Self and group Gyrating to dance music, men, women, and everyone in between, over-sized, waxed, tanned, acrylic painted fingernails, “dick-slings,” all coveting the main attraction: metal phallic poles meant for street signs now for ass-jacking “exotic dancers” instead of beautiful acrobatic feats Circqe du Soleil can intertwine “Alegria Hula Hoops” over muscled tights and flexible bodies in front of dignitaries in foreign countries, Vegas, or morph into an avant- garde circus at Disney World.

    Ms.Utley’s “shackles of politics.. ” pointless meme, and phallic poles can stifle itself against any intellectual sensual experience with Soleil with my *husband* or Enigma than visit any falsetto “gentleman’s” club.

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  2. MJ Conner says:

    I personally like your idea of sexing the men’s cross country team. That sounds much more reasonable, too. I’ve never been to a strip club, but I did watch Magic Mike and I have to say that I’d be totally willing to go to a strip club like that. The thing is, I think that kind only exists in dream and Las Vegas. There are no Channing Tatums in those strip clubs. So, screw the shackles of politics! Let’s just go to Vegas.

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    • Karen says:

      I, also, like my idea of sexing the entire men’s XC team.

      I don’t know. I’m kinda “meh” about watching men strip, too. I mean, when they shake their stuff in front of me it’s not ’cause they think I’m cute or funny or cook a delicious chicken piccata, it’s ’cause they’re hoping I’ll stuff some bills into their jock. So it’s hard for me to get my motor racing for them (plus, I’m cheap).

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    • Karen says:

      File this under “Things I Could Have Died Happy Without Ever Knowing” but one of the articles reveals that each dancer carefully sanitizes the pole before she begins her routine. I’m willing to bet the act of spritzing Clorax® Clean Up Cleaner With Bleach all over the place turns at least a few of the patrons on.

      So, um, yeah, transmitting disease via stripper pole is a real concern, apparently.

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  3. californiacurls says:

    I think the real trend here (which is maybe not so much a trend and more of a slow evolution) is that girls are willing to do almost anything to impress boys. Over the years, though, we ladies have to keep one-upping ourselves in order to stay fresh and current. Somehow we have made our way from corsets to strip clubs. When I was in college it was commonplace for chicks to make out with chicks at bars and parties . . . not because they were curious or because they swung that way, but because nothing gathered a shouting crowd of frat boys like two girls getting frisky. The same logic lies behind strip club attendance. If a girl is down to hit up the ol’ Kegs n’ Legs, she is obviously super cool, comfortable with herself, and turned on by boobs. She earns at least 30 hot points from any guy within a 10 foot radius (It matters not if any of those things are true, by the way). I’m not sure what’s next in this slow evolution theory of mine . . . but I guess what I’m saying is that none of this liberates any shackles (huh?). It’s just more of the same old, same old – chasing boys on the playground. All that being said, I’ve totally been to a strip club. Once. In college. 😉

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    • Karen says:

      Thanks for the thoughtful comment.

      As I said in the post, I’m very suspicious that there is an actual trend of straight women hanging out in strip clubs. It seems more like a titillating story designed to get page views, and there is very little evidence provided in the articles to support the idea of a actual “trend.”

      Having said that, boy oh boy, I would hate to go to a strip club with a guy in an attempt to impress him with my super coolness. I doubt if he would even remember I was there once the naked ladies came out with their naked ladyparts. I’m sure I would go off to the bathroom at some point during the evening, and come backto find him gone, having forgotten me at the club, and left me with no way to get back home.

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  4. sqeekchair says:

    I don’t think I care about “my super-coolness” with any man sipping overpriced, watered down drinks and stuffing his mouth with a free buffet of chicken wings and celery sticks.

    Frat boys, or most other mortal men would like to watch two chicks
    ” Bang-a-Gong,” that’s what “Girls Gone Wild Is For.”
    I’m more turned on by someone who is comfortable in their own skin, G.Q, or Playboy devoid- that’s just Photoshop crap.

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