2002-10-02 - 12:02 p.m.

Last night found me heading off to a bachelor party for one of the guys that I work with. It was being handled in two seperate events: The pre-nudie bar drinking binge, and (as his fiancee's redneck brothers dubbed the second half) TittiesandBeer!.

I had made up my mind to go to the sports bar, figuring that I like both sports food and bar.

While there, I was finally talked into going to a strip joint. "How often does someone get married", and "TittiesandBeer!" were the most common arguments. I finally gave in when the bachelor decided that they were just going to go to one of the clubs on Bookpark road, and when one of my drunk friends offered to pay my cover charge.

When we got there, I was quite disappointed to learn that TittiesandBeer! was a blatant lie that should have read TittiesandCola. TittiesandCola, AssandVagina, and PoorPatheticBridgeTrolls. These last lads were a SAD breed, sitting at tables by themselves only to venture up to the edge of the platform when "their girl" came out to dance, staring with a lustful longing that only an Amish boy in an R-rated movie could muster. And the girls would spread their legs for these guys, more than happy to take their money while the guys eyes were swimming with reflections of labia.

Now, don't get me wrong. I like naked women. Very sexy. But, as much as I like the vagina, staring into it does nothing for me. Oh, sure you can decorate it up with all kinds of steel studs or rings; you can shave whatever cute little design that you want into the bush that covers the mound, but you CAN NOT make the inside of a crotch attractive. The only girl that impressed me was the one who did her little dance, and every time she bent down and spread her thighs wide she made a little side-mouthed, half cluck/half smooooch noise to go with it. When she did that in front of me I couldn't help but start laughing my ass off. The guys thought it was because I was nervous or shy (even though we'd been there for an hour and a half, and she was about the seventh girl to do her little number in my face), but no... it was just really funny. She started laughing too, almost like she'd just been waiting for someone else to get her little joke. I guess you'd have to amuse yourself somehow.

So then the guys started buying thirty dollar lap-dances. A concept that boggles my mind, because it was exactly what the girls did on stage, just about 18 inches closer. Thirty bucks? I had to pass. I love the sexy naked people, but I refuse to pay money so that I can sit and watch something that I can't touch. At least with porn I can find the pleasure of my own hand if need be. This place (though somehow not arousing; I think maybe the blatant thing just really doesn't work for me) just made me decide that it's time to go find a real woman, if only so that I don't end up like one of those BridgeTrolls that were just flinging money away. Not a big danger of that happneing, but I think that I'd like cover my bases.

BBBrett

previous - next