Friday, March 25, 2011

Strip, strip, strip to my lou

I have no issue with strippers or the entire billion dollar business enterprise of stripping. This is a sector of social culture that 1. will always exist and 2. will not change whether we like it or not. And once, after one or two tiny extra sips of martini did I hear “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith and in a moment of foolishness proceed to tell my then boyfriend that if I was a stripper, that would be my stripper song. Little did I know how cliché and trite my choice was given that apparently 1. it is played in every strip club in America including Bob's Dirty Birdy Barn in backwoods Missouri. 2. it is the selected theme song for many a Candy, Vixen, or Ginger, and 2. I was also ill-prepared for the sudden increase in opportunities for then boyfriend to play said song. Next time, I shall keep my little thoughts to myself. 

During high school, our group of girlfriends heard some of our guy friends went to a strip club in our city. So we, tipsy on wine coolers, decide to drive there. Except we can’t get in because we have no ID. And we look 14. And we reek of Bartles & James Passion Fruit Paradise. 

So instead, we ask the bouncer if he knows our friends J., R., or B. The bouncer barely acknowledges our questions. One girlfriend of ours lies and tells Surly McToughStuff that one of the mothers of one of these boys sent us. Right. Because Moms often call the Girl Power Crew all dolled up in their Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers to save the day. Charlie's Angels, we were not. What we think is a vision of sophistication and sexy acid wash jeans to this man is actually a cacophony of giggles and high pitched squeals peppered with "oh maaaah gaaaawwwwds" and too much Love's Baby Soft. 

One friend then tells the bouncer these particular boys are actually in high school. Minutes later they are rounded up and escorted out of the club. Were they surprised to see us? A little. Were they chagrined by our cleverness? We were cackling like we just pulled the fastest of the fast ones. If they could have punched us, they would have chosen that option. Idiot, idiot girls.

And once in grad school, during one of my Mom’s many visits, a group of us convince my Mom to let us take her to a pretty fun club in Westport. Clubs then were not full of techno and Ecstasy. We thought it was fun because it was full of 80s music and hot men. That particular night turned out to be some guy’s birthday. His buddies hired a stripper as a "surprise" for him.  Because no gift from one man to another at that age, delivered in a bar, rinsed down with about 20 shots of Cuervo could EVER be figured out the minute the fake siren blares and a scantily clad woman shows up to "arrest" you. Stripperella then took center-stage and performed a routine for all the club to see. Including my Mom. My Mom is no prude, but let me make a list of 1000 things she would like to do on a weekend visit and “Stripper Showcase” wouldn’t make the cut. 

And I am a very flexible girl but I will say I was in AWE of some of the moves this girl could do. Cirque du Dirt-tayyyyyyy.

And years later one balmy Sunday, I joined a friend for Brunch. It was summer, so it was hot. I had on a white tank top, white pants and a cowboy hat. There were many other woman out on the patio. Many of them dressed similar to me. These women, all wearing white tank tops and cowboy hats, turned out to be strippers from a big club in Atlanta called The Cheetah. They were out in full force promoting their “Catwalk Classes”. I am sure everyone enjoying a snack after Sunday Services liked this very little. My friend Luke absolutely loved our matching outfits. I went inside to get a water and the bartender asked me if I was a Cheetah Girl. Ummmm. No. To which he says, “Oh, that’s too bad.” 

Yes, life is momentarily dimmed when a bartender is saddened by the fact you are not a stripper. That's nice. Oh, and look at the chest sector dumbarse and answer your own question.

And life comes full circle. We took MiniMac to an upscale sports bar (kid-friendly, of course) to watch one of the NCAA games. The Bacardi promo girls were canvassing the place. Our son was quite enamored with the two that game to visit. As he stared at their ample chests, he said, "I really like your buttons." Of course, he meant their flashing red Bacardi buttons. RIGHT? Oh, and I am not implying promo girls are strippers. But if they are, I am sure they are ONLY doing it to work their way through med school. And next thing I know, our son will be 21 and getting "arrested." Oh, what a surprise. 

24 comments:

Hookin It With Mr. Lick Lick said...

:o) You have fun times ahead of you with him.

I tell my daughter all the time that I wouldn't want to be in her shoes when her girls get older. Not in this day and time.

the walking man said...

Sometime after Viet Nam topless clubs became the right of passage from never having felt a tit to at least having seen them. Then you soon after have felt too many, had too many medical students clutching at your wallet and you then begin to realize that $12,00 for a draught beer just ain't worth no shiny buttons or other baubles to play with.

Just make sure miniMac doesn't start the habit of saving any money right now and he will make it through that straight of passage just fine, broke, but fine.

singedwingangel said...

Ahem sooo me telling you that I went to the strip clubs with my hubby would tell you what? I too was impressed by their flexibility and informed hubby that sooo wasn't happening in our sex life, at least not with me lol.
As a woman we have it made as guests in those clubs. Many of the girls will dance for you for free, just to torment your man.. I had a ball and made some very awesome friends..truthfully. Some of the sweetest most down to earth girls you would ever meet if you met them out of the bar.

Bouncin' Barb said...

I still say if I had half a brain when I was young and wild and had a great body, I would have done this and made a boatload of $$ and today I'd be retired and comfortable. But, no. I was to busy looking to pick up the boys who were sitting there watching said strippers! Hahaha.

Little Ms J said...

I think my sister in law is in trouble when her four year old pounds on her bedroom door at midnight wanting to know where his magazine is and telling her to give it back. Yes, yes, earlier in the day she found a Victoria's Secret catalog tucked safely under his pillow.

Now, that my dear spells trouble.

McVal said...

lol!!! I like your buttons... Yeah - that'll get him arrested someday! I wonder if my son has ever used that line...

Kristina P. said...

Who needs to leave your house, when you have neighbors like mine!

Noe Noe Girl...A Queen of all Trades. said...

I opened my 13 yr olds ipod touch to have a set of boobs staring me in the face....lawd have mercy!
<><

Eva Gallant said...

My youngest son dated a stripper when he was 19. Knowing full well that if I threw a fit and forbade it, he would probably want to marry her, I played it cool and asked if she might be willing to perform at our next family get-together. For some reason the romance cooled very quickly! Good luck with MiniMac! lol

Nitmos said...

Your high school strip club story should surely have led you to a yearbook caption along the lines of "Most Hated Person in the Universe", no? At least, if the boys were on the yearbook staff.

Pricilla said...

And how did said, erm promo girl react to the button comment?

Did she have the intelligence to respond?

Clemson Girl said...

A few years back I let me husband's (then bf) best friend convince us to go to a strip club. Let's just say after being licked by one of the girls, it would be my first and very last club experience.

Mommy Lisa said...

It was so funny - we were at our local liquor store - it has a deli/cheese shop and on Saturday's has LOTS of free samples of everything. One of the sample girls had a flashy button and boo boo wanted one, she had to hand it to ME and not her because that would be marketing to children. :P Cuz the flashy button was made for 43 year old moms?

Ed said...

Well thanks a lot. There went my fantasy of you as a stripper.

Geez.


And don't act all prime and proper now....Once a sassy little vixen, always a sassy little vixen.

Marriage, kids, profession...it doesn't change who you are...Ms. Aerosmith.

hahahahaha

Eric said...

Haha, were any of the Cheetah girls named 'Cruella DeVille'? (stripper blogger)

secret agent woman said...

I will be deeply disappointed in my sons if they have any part in a practice that I believe degrades women.

Anonymous said...

You are so witty. Surly McToughStuff? Awesome.

The Absence of Alternatives said...

M'lady, YOUR story reminded me WHY I secretly still would like to have a daughter! You think my SONS are going to take me to a club to party and look at hot men?! *sigh*

AND on a related note... have you caught wind of "Pole Dancing for Jesus"? For realz. Not making this up. She checks your church program before she lets you take the class!

http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/2011/03/24/2011-03-24_pole_dancing_for_jesus_class_mixes_faith_and_fitness_church_going_women_offered_.html

Andrea said...

Love's Baby Soft. I used to adore that lotion. That alone took me back to the day.

I've been outside a strip joint in Jersey once in my life; a sorority picture/treasure hunt thing that I sincerely did not enjoy.

I also used to have to process my bosses expense reports where many a time I'd see these clubs come across. And yes they actually were legitimate business expenses. Stock brokers are nasty little men, that's all I'm saying.

Maria said...

Goodness..I would have been on the floor if one of my kids made the button comment to a "promo" girl. They do, however, enjoy chicken strips from Hooters. Should I be concerned?

Intense Guy said...

I feel the need to defend Hooters... the food there is really good.

I, as a loyal reader, want to hear more about your "very flexible"-ness.

:)

Kate said...

Candy and Ginger, yes. But I think you forgot their close, ubiquitous friend: CRYSTAL.

KittyCat said...

I have been in plenty some nasty some decent.
Almost worked I'm one right out of hs. A friends father
owned one. I just think I really had the boobs
for that type of job.
Oh well.

Vivienne @ the V Spot said...

Oh Lordy! Bartles & James? Love's Baby Soft? BonneBell Lip Smackers? Help me Jenny Mac! I'm being sucked into a time machine set for 1983! aaaaagggh!

So funny. I have seen a stripper once or twice and always been amazed that they have that flexibility. (And not just physically.)