mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clothing Optional Entry Twice in the last few months, I have found myself discussing strippers and strip clubs with various friends. Now, I am not sure how to say this so that I don't get a bunch of email telling me I'm a prude or that I have hang ups or whatever but I'm not so much a fan of strippers/strip clubs (male or female). This doesn't mean I object to you or anyone else in your family going to the Lusty Lady or whatever, it's just not a big turn on for me. I think I have a very healthy attitude towards nudity (I see beauty in the human body in all shapes and forms) but simply seeing naked people dance about just doesn't get me all hot. There has to be something more. Back in my cruise ship days, I worked with several hormonally charged men. I am actually using men very loosely here. I'm really talking about a couple of boys who were barely 21. They were both stereotypically macho, even bordering on sexist and I discovered early on that we had very little in common. In fact, I found them both incredibly distasteful. In real life, when you find yourself in contact with someone you're less than crazy about you can walk away but on the boat your pretty much screwed. I did my best to ignore them but every once in awhile, we did spar. One particular evening these two returned from an afternoon out on the town in Victoria. They immediately began regaling the crew with tales from the strip club they had just visited. "You should have seen this chick," the first kid said. "Gorgeous blonde with huge tits and she was all over me." "Oh man," said the second kid. "That's nothing. This other girl was totally in to me. She just kept dancing her butt all up in my face." The two went on and on about how the strippers couldn't get enough of them till I was unable to keep my mouth shut anymore. "Guys," I said. "You do realize these women are simply acting right? That this is their job and that all they want from you is your money?" Both shot me nasty looks. They started screaming at me about how I wasn't there and that these women were truly hot for them. "Let me ask you a question," I said. "Are you really into the passengers we get here on this ship? Do you really like bringing them drink after drink, making sure they're special dietary needs are met, cleaning their toilets? No, no you don't. The reason you empty their garbage and pick up their old dirty snot rags and smile while doing it is because you want to get paid. Tips, tips, tips. That's what makes the service industry go around and if you think differently, you're even stupider than I imagined." Needless to say, there was more debate and in the end, I let them believe that the strippers loved them and I'm sure wherever those two are right now, they're getting a lap dance. God bless the delusional. Okay that story sounds way too preachy (and I really didn't mean it to) so let me tell you another one. I most recently found myself relaying this to Rebecca and immediately knew I'd have to post it here. I have to admit that I have never been to a real live strip club but I have seen a strip-o-gram. As a child, both of my parents worked in NYC and around the holidays they'd often bring me into their offices so that we could walk around the city and check out all the cool window displays. Around Christmas time, we'd go to Rockefeller Center and look at the tree, then up to Sax Fifth Avenue to see the animatronics, and finally over to Macy's to see Santa and tell him what I hoped to find under the tree on Christmas day. My father's birthday is also in December and his office had decided to throw him a little party one Friday. My father felt the combination of the party plus the holiday festivities made this the perfect day for me to join him at work. That morning I was so excited. I loved taking the subway into the city. I adored dressing up in one of my cutest dresses and having my grandmother curl up my hair ala Shirley Temple. I looked forward to snatching candy off the various secretaries desks when they weren't looking and possibly lunching at a fancy restaurant with my Dad. Dad had a few things to do early on in the day so he asked me to hang out in the corner of his office and play quietly with the coloring books I had brought in my child sized briefcase (which was a special accessory I only got to use when I went into the city - I think my parents were trying to train me for Wall Street early on - didn't work out so well, did it?). One of Dad's tasks that day was to interview a potential secretary. His was
leaving or being promoted or something. Around 9:30 am, just after we had finished
our bagels and cream cheese, the receptionist showed in a young woman in a gray
suit. After shaking hands and basic introductions, the woman proceeded to open
her briefcase, pull out a radio, turn on some loud musis, and begin a strip
tease. Apparently his staff thought this would be a funny birthday gift but I guess they weren't counting on my being there. I was so confused by the whole thing that I began wailing loudly. I was totally freaked out and no amount of reasoning would stop my screeching. I was drowning out the music with my wails. The stripper stopped what she was doing but it was too late, I was on a crying jag and I just couldn't stop. It took nearly two hours before I calmed down. I'm not sure what my little brain was thinking. I was five and this was scary and weird and icky too. In retrospect, this was a pretty funny moment for all involved except maybe the stripper who I think got pissed off that I stole her thunder. Oh well. Finally, one last story that actually belongs to my neighbor Judy but is so funny I can't help but share. Judy works in Pioneer Square where they recently opened a Cowgirls Inc. Saloon. For those of you unfamiliar with Cowgirls, think Coyote Ugly or if you were lucky enough to miss that flick imagine Hooters with a western theme and less class (yeah, I said less class than Hooters). A few weeks ago, Judy is sitting up at the reception desk going about her business when in walk two scantily clad ladies. "Hi," says a perky blond with large breasts. "My name is Tiffany and this here is Amber and we're just going around the neighborhood introducing ourselves. We work for Cowgirls Inc. and we'd like to invite you to come by and visit us." Amber says nothing and apparently looks a bit like a heroine addict. Pale, skinny, unwashed. Judy also says nothing and stares expressionlessly at the two women in hot pants standing before her desk in a fairly professional environment. "Cowgirls Inc. is totally, totally fun," continues Tiffany. "We play lots of music and we dance on the bars and it's so so so great." She breaks into some sort of gyrating motion here that is supposed to look like dancing. "And there's shots and it's totally, totally fun." Judy continues to stare but doesn't say a word. "And I don't know what you're into or anything," Tiffany continues, "but there are so many hot guys in there. You should totally get your posse together and come by. It's totally, totally fun." "Um I have to get back to work," Judy finally says. "Okay," Tiffany answers. "Well we hope to see y'all soon." And she dances out the door. Amber limps out behind her. Judy has yet to round up her "posse" and head over to Cowgirls Inc. but this story never fails to make me smile. 2:04 p.m. - 2004-05-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||