There's a common misconception among women that all men love strip clubs. Well, I'm one man that doesn't love strip clubs. I definitely don't hate them and, depending upon how much I've had to drink, I sometimes really, really, really like them. However, I don't love strip clubs.
Sure I love seeing tits and asses. Sure I love seeing young ladies humiliate themselves. But the Internet can provide that without the puritanical laws that our beloved go-go bars are held to. And human contact from naked girls? Well, that's nice, but there's a lot that comes along with it.
You have to be around said naked girls. Regardless of what they look like, they are strippers. They're the types of girls that go on shows like Rock/Flavor/Shot of Love, The Bachelor, and every other televised mecca for idiotic whores. Needless to say, they're not the sharpest heels on the shoe tree. For the most part, hearing them speak is like hearing nails on a chalkboard.
They always go on and on with their justifications for why they get nude for food. They're earning money to pay for grad school or law school or med school. They're raising seed capital to found a charity that helps children with cleft lips learn to smile. They're writing a dissertation on gender roles in post-feminist American society. They're trained actresses doing research for a Brechtian play about the burlesque arts of the twenties. Spoiler Alert -- they're not.
When you speak with these "brilliant saints," you eventually discover that, at the ripe age of 21, they have eleven kids with thirteen different men. Or, they have a troubling addiction to a combination of Tylenol PM cut with Crystal Meth and chased with computer dust remover. Or, they dropped out of school at 12 and are too lazy to get a job that doesn't involve showing gash for cash.
In addition to being sub-par conversationalists, the ladies smell. That's right, these perfect specimens of the female form are malodorous. Makes sense -- they're dancing around all night with their genitals hanging out. F.O. (Female Odor) is bound to rear it's ugly head. The ladies know this. So, they wear stripperfume.
Stripperfume is this strange scent that is seemingly only worn by exotic dancers. It's a rancorous mix of begonias, sweat, cigarettes, and bodily fluids. Quite simply, it smells like stripper. It hurts my nose and it makes me sneeze. By far the worst thing about stripperfume is that anytime you're within twenty feet of it, it sticks to your clothes and body and keeps you smelling of stripper for days. If you have a significant other, there is absolutely no way to hide the fact that you've been at a strip club. Not good.
Spolier Alert #2 -- Strippers don't really like us. They just want our money. That's fine. They're capitalists like myself. Still, it's annoying when they're constantly asking you to buy them something or to give them cash for nothing. I have ladies at home for that. It's also annoying when you give in and get a private dance and there's a large man watching your hands and the dancer is watching her watch and you're watching your wallet. That's not titillating OR private.
Despite the strippers, a strip club could be lots of fun. Unfortunately, the proprietors of these establishments do everything in their power to keep that from happening. They charge exorbitant amounts of money for everything you could possibly consume. There's a strip club tax that adds at least 200% to the price of everything. A Beer is $14. A mixed drink is $25. ATM fees are $12. Nachos are $37.
No matter how much you spend though, you're still a second class citizen unless you have an expense account or a Middle Eastern friend, enabling you to get bottle service, go into the champagne room, or take home a stripper. If you don't have an expense account or a Middle Eastern friend, there's no reason to spend this kind of money at a titty bar. You will not have more fun. You will just be angry in the morning.
Strip clubs also have horrible DJs who are complete assholes that incessantly talk in that stupid strip club DJ drone and play cheesy music that no self respecting human should have to be subjected to during a military standoff, let alone a night out. Strip clubs also have strip club regulars -- guys that go to these places every night and think they're something special for it. Look, you didn't solve Fermat's Last Theorem, you frequent a place called Teasy McDryhump's. Stop being a dick!
Occasionally, the strip clubs get visits from civilians. These are women that don't work there, but they think they're being so sexy and cool by going there. Spoiler Alert #3 -- they're not. We like to go to strip clubs by ourselves, then go home and bang you. When you're there with us, you're an annoyance, not an added benefit. Although you act like you love it, you're just there to make sure we're not being too bad and to ease your paranoia when we're there alone in the future.
These are the same girls that take stripper exercise classes and have stripper poles in their houses, thinking we'll be turned on by them. We're not. Leave stripping to the professionals and relish your role as an amateur. Some guys, myself included, like amateurs better. We would rather see amateurs getting slutty at a regular bar than pros at the strip club. We would rather see natural boobs flop around National Geographic-style than lumps of of silicone standing in one place like Play-Doh. We would rather get suckered out of money with a marriage certificate than a strip club admission hand stamp.
So, with all the crap attached to it, you may ask why I ever go to strip clubs. Well, it's a rite of manhood. It's a bonding experience for guys to concurrently expose their sublimated misogyny in a controlled environment. Strip clubs allow us to add to our JOMB (jerk off memory bank) after we've exhausted the annals of the Internet. Strip clubs are a reminder of what we are or aren't missing by being in a committed relationship. It's fun to be in a place where no matter how obnoxious you are, you're not as obnoxious as the DJs or strip club regulars. It's fun to look at naked women, regardless of my aforementioned complaints. Plus, those $37 nachos are pretty damn good. Come to think of it, I do love strip clubs.