Mixtapes for Hookers


My First Strip Club Experience: An Adventure
October 26, 2010, 12:22 am
Filed under: heterosexuals, porn | Tags: , , , ,

Because it was asked, and because I can’t sleep, and because I am currently full of beer and chatty (yet alone), I will tell you the story of the first time I ever went to a strip club.  At least, the first time I went to a strip club where ladies dance.  (Previously I had attended an all-male event called Lube Wrestling, about which the less said the better, probably.)

It was 2007 and I was in Las Vegas tagging along with my boyfriend to the AVN show.  I was really into straight porn at the time and even started a blog about it (which lasted two weeks, but hush.)  We went to a strip club party after maybe the third day of weird Las Vegas-ness (ie, watching giant-boobed women wearing pasties, because that is the law, while enormous jumbotrons projected scenes of the same ladies in really intense hardcore scenes, because that was okay.)

But you know who is not excited by strippers?  People who spend all day wheeling and dealing with (or at least gawking at and ogling) the ladies of the porn industry.  The club was really crowded but you could tell it was kind of the slowest night ever for the staff.

One dancer came up and asked me, or maybe my boyfriend, if I’d/he’d like a dance; we declined, and she left in a huffy way.  Meanwhile, someone on the stage was dancing to, I don’t know, “It’s My Life” by Bon Jovi, which was really disappointing to me because all the strippers during the day were dancing to songs like Portishead’s “Glory Box.”  Which is just as cheesy, don’t get me wrong, but which is a far better song outside of the pole-dancing context.

Anyway, a few minutes later another dancer came up and asked if either of us wanted a dance.  We declined again, because Las Vegas is fucking expensive and also because, you know, the gay thing.

“Hmmm, I don’t know if you belong here,” she said.

I was nervous, like I’d breached some unspoken hetero strip club rule on my first visit.  “No?”

“No,” she said.  “Actually, I know exactly where you should go.”

I was more nervous, like she was going to tell me to go to hell, and like I might cry once she said it.  She continued.

“It’s a bar called the Double Down, it’s in the gay part of town, the Fruit Loop.  I think you’d really like it there.”

We thanked her, and she moved on, because the first stripper we turned down was giving her the evil eye from across the room.  And shortly after our party moved on, leaving the club for a Chi Chi LaRue party which, as it turned out, was in the Fruit Loop, just across the street from the strip mall that housed the Double Down.

That stripper, it turned out, was completely right.  The Double Down was far and away my favorite part of Vegas.  They had bacon martinis.  They sold puke insurance (for $20 up front they wouldn’t make you clean up your own vomit!)  Their drinks were not a million dollars and there was at least 50% less fakeness than in the rest of the city.  Plus they had a real jukebox, stocked with CDs by bands I knew (even the Midnight Creeps, who I thought were just a Providence thing!)

Anyway, the whole point of this story was to explain how my first-ever strip club experience involved Pulp’s “This Is Hardcore.”  But now I realize that that story is my second-ever strip club experience.  So stay tuned for that one…


1 Comment so far
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That was great, too, even without Pulp. I look forward to the creation of a new group blog, “I Heard it at the Strip Club.”

Comment by Bubbles




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