Saturday I’m joining a group of guys for a bachelor party. Former Monkey Mike is getting married next month and his brothers are throwing him a day-long event to which all the male members of Monkey’s Uncle are also invited. It’s a day of gambling, drinking and — most likely — cigar smoking with a possible trip to something naughty in the evening. Ironically I’m not much into any of the above, but love Mike to pieces so going to help him celebrate.
This will be the second bachelor celebration I’ve attended. A lifetime ago (the early 90’s) when I lived in Portland, Oregon, my friend and co-worker Garen had his. All I can remember is the strip clubs we went to.
The first place was Mary’s. The oldest strip club in Portland which it did indeed look like. All the men there stood in corners and walked quickly to one end or the other with their heads hung in embarrassment. Like any of us cared they were hanging out there. It was an interesting experience that was made fun because the girls were dancing to grunge music that I really enjoyed, so was sitting near the back bopping and singing along to the music when the first girl came out.
Now having only gone to gay strip clubs I was used to and expected the strip tease to be just that — a tease that only went down to a g-string. Oh, how the laws in Portland are completely sexist. While singing and chatting with the group, all their heads turned and my eyes followed to behold a beautiful young woman bent over — ass to the audience — with her fingers between her legs spreading her love open for all to see. I then protested the unfairness of this to deaf ears partly because none of them wanted to see penis flopping around, but mostly because they were surely fantasizing about spending the night in some sugar walls.
After my initial shock, I got back into the music having a good old time in my own world surrounded by a bunch of men too nervous to let loose and just have some non-touchy fun. This was when Garen’s loud-mouthed friend noticed me chair dancing to Nirvana and Nine Inch Nails and cried out for the entire room to hear, “Oh, great! We’re in a strip club and the only one having a good time is the GAY GUY!” We left soon after that.
I had my revenge at the next place we went. This place was nicer, cleaner and a bit more open aired but with the same type of performer: nice looking girls stripping to grunge. I sat in a table away from the dance area where one of the cute male bartenders turned me onto fruit wheat beers which are still a favorite of mine today. The rest of the group were sitting around the dance/pole area screaming things like “Nice tits!” and “Great ass!” I cupped my hands around my mouth and screamed, “GREAT TASTE IN MUSIC!” That got me looks of scorn and a hissed “Shut up!”. I think they were just jealous because I probably had a better shot at her than they did at that point. Being a work night, we all went home soon after that and thus ended my only immersion into a Showgirls atmosphere.
This Saturday sounds a bit more classy in that we’re going to Black Hawk and then back to a local brewery to hang out until 10 or so. Plans for after have not been established. I will not be voting for a gentlemen’s club. First, who wants to see a woman strip to Britney Spears or The Fray and, second, I’ll be with a group of comedians. There is no shocking them unless I pay for my own lap dance and start fondling boobies. Actually, the boobies wouldn’t shock them. They all know I found tits fascinating.