Why I Don't Do Strip Clubs
Last night, after a night out at Big Fish, my buddies decided to go to a strip club called Gold Rush (contrary to what you may think, one of them is a girl). Normally, I don't want to go. Not because I think it's an establishment that's demeans women by commoditizing their bodies; if the girls are happy with a job involving removal of clothes in arctic-cold air conditioning, then good for them.
Not only do I plain not like going to those places, I just don't think it's worth blowing off (oops, poor choice of words) a large amount of cash to see women take their clothes off and rub against you. There's the internets for that, and if it's free, then the sacrifice in "interactivity" is well worth it. Now whenever I turn down an offer to go to the strip bar, I get accusations thrown at me that I'm gay. I guess the reason is that they're jealous that I can keep my libido from cleaning out my bank account. Hell, even if I'm gay, I still have more cash than you.
But just to be a sport, I came along. Well, not only that, but one of my buddies has to give me a ride home. Woohoo. Fake boobies, obscenely fake boobies, nice real boobies. I guess they just don't thrill me that much. Or perhaps internet porn has numbed me. Either way, even though there are some really pretty girls, and that I think the female human body is one of God's most beautiful creations (He probably did a half-assed job on men, so he did a better job on women. Eat that up fems.), I don't feel comfortable admiring His creations in this environment. That's what beaches are for, and the ones in South Beach are top-optional.
So to give you an idea of the exhorbitant amounts people (i.e. men and women) spend on being thus entertained, one of my buddies blew off (oops, there it is again) $200 for a 30-minute "private" dance, and ended up feeling pissed because he was ripped off. It turned out that she spent 20 minutes just talking to him, and the rest of the time doing a strip dance that is not unlike the strip dances found in the main area.
OUCH.
If I wanted to find out that she is studying Architecture at Florida State University, I'd chat her up at a bar. For free.
Not only do I plain not like going to those places, I just don't think it's worth blowing off (oops, poor choice of words) a large amount of cash to see women take their clothes off and rub against you. There's the internets for that, and if it's free, then the sacrifice in "interactivity" is well worth it. Now whenever I turn down an offer to go to the strip bar, I get accusations thrown at me that I'm gay. I guess the reason is that they're jealous that I can keep my libido from cleaning out my bank account. Hell, even if I'm gay, I still have more cash than you.
But just to be a sport, I came along. Well, not only that, but one of my buddies has to give me a ride home. Woohoo. Fake boobies, obscenely fake boobies, nice real boobies. I guess they just don't thrill me that much. Or perhaps internet porn has numbed me. Either way, even though there are some really pretty girls, and that I think the female human body is one of God's most beautiful creations (He probably did a half-assed job on men, so he did a better job on women. Eat that up fems.), I don't feel comfortable admiring His creations in this environment. That's what beaches are for, and the ones in South Beach are top-optional.
So to give you an idea of the exhorbitant amounts people (i.e. men and women) spend on being thus entertained, one of my buddies blew off (oops, there it is again) $200 for a 30-minute "private" dance, and ended up feeling pissed because he was ripped off. It turned out that she spent 20 minutes just talking to him, and the rest of the time doing a strip dance that is not unlike the strip dances found in the main area.
OUCH.
If I wanted to find out that she is studying Architecture at Florida State University, I'd chat her up at a bar. For free.
posted by Cosmic Ocean at 11:57 AM
7 Comments:
hey...our restaurant is called Big Fish toooooooooooooo...but its not big at all, and not very fancy or award winning with a banyan tree bar like the one you went to.
Hehee..at least you only said "blowing off" a large amount of cash. I thought the common term was "blowing a load" of cash.
btw, 90kg??
Big Fish...great book! Movie wasn't too bad either.
Yes. 90kg = about 200lb. My mom is getting really worried, but she assumes it's all fat, heheh.
wow...sexy!!
Well, if that's what you think of my mom...
ya...but don't tell her so i can continue to stalk her in secret ;)
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