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in which i go to a strip club
Sep. 7th, 2010 11:48 pmthere's this strip club near me that does burlesque shows on first tuesdays. a friend of mine (the one from the sewing party this past saturday) was performing her very first solo number, and i was there to support. i was a bit shocked when i walked in and there was a topless, nearly bottomless anorexic looking girl athleticizing on the pole. it took me a moment to adjust to the fact that i was in fact in a strip club. or an exotic dance club. i'm not sure what the technical term was. it's my first time, you see.
i had a couple of friends who were already there, and i quickly made my way to them. i didn't have anything to drink (can't on meds, needed to drive, and frankly wasn't comfortable with it). i didn't have feminist issues with being there. i was more intrigued. examining what they were wearing, how they were moving, how they maintained their bodies. most were terrifyingly skinny. there were two with reasonable flesh while still being svelte. i felt kinda creepy. not in the way some of the guys were giving off axe-wielding maniac vibes. like i was watching and analyzing too intently. it was difficult to talk and be heard (I was there maybe an hour and my jaw hurts), so there kinda wasn't anything else to do, what with not having a drink to nurse.
at one point, the four of us girls all decided the time had come to tip, and we tipped the same dancer. one of my friends commented that when women tip you, you know you've done a good job. i'd watched a documentary a whole back on lesbians in the adult industry. there was a dancer who commented that women are far harder to impress. the reason we came up with was that we have those bits, we can move our bodies in those basic ways.
it felt much like watching porn. halfheartedly entertaining at first, and then it devolves into a study in mechanics.
i had a couple of friends who were already there, and i quickly made my way to them. i didn't have anything to drink (can't on meds, needed to drive, and frankly wasn't comfortable with it). i didn't have feminist issues with being there. i was more intrigued. examining what they were wearing, how they were moving, how they maintained their bodies. most were terrifyingly skinny. there were two with reasonable flesh while still being svelte. i felt kinda creepy. not in the way some of the guys were giving off axe-wielding maniac vibes. like i was watching and analyzing too intently. it was difficult to talk and be heard (I was there maybe an hour and my jaw hurts), so there kinda wasn't anything else to do, what with not having a drink to nurse.
at one point, the four of us girls all decided the time had come to tip, and we tipped the same dancer. one of my friends commented that when women tip you, you know you've done a good job. i'd watched a documentary a whole back on lesbians in the adult industry. there was a dancer who commented that women are far harder to impress. the reason we came up with was that we have those bits, we can move our bodies in those basic ways.
it felt much like watching porn. halfheartedly entertaining at first, and then it devolves into a study in mechanics.
