Scarlett's Strip Club...

Wouldn't that have been a "pole" meeting?

I am pretty sure that the officer on channel 11 last night was ready to crack up laughing too.

Max - It wasn't a "come to Jesus meeting" that's for sure. :)

And they say families don't do things together anymore.

I'm one of those rare 30-something guys who's never been to a strip club. While the concept is titillating this post reinforces my desire not to go.

I've not been to one either, and I have no interest in "look but don't touch".

So I’m sitting here thinking to myself “Danneskjold, offer to take Anonymous and INeedCoffee out to one of the local dancing establishments lest someday they go to their grave having missed a young man’s rite of passage.”

Now, it should be noted that it’s been decades since a young Danneskjold visited such places of ill repute sporting his patently devilishly handsome mullet and skin tight Van Halen T-shirt… Grrrr (sorry ladies, I am married). However, as my mind drifted over the potential evening with A.C. and I.N.C. deep nightmarish possibilities started evolving.... Danneskjold’s wife leaves him because he’s spending too much time out with his new friends. A newly divorced Danneskjold is forced to move into A.C.’s basement whereupon the two fight incessantly because A.C. will not allow Danneskjold watch the O’Reilly factor in his house.

No, no, no… too many possibilities for negative consequences. To be absolutely honest with you both your hard earned cash would be better spent on penny whistles and moon pies.

LMAO.

Sorry for infringing on your mullet patent. I didn't know. :)
But then I joined a metal band and had to go with the full-on "man fro."

Three strip clubs and a limo was an official bachelor party when I was in my early twenties. So, I guess I have been to strip clubs as many times as I have been a best man.

And one extra time. I had a boss who was a pig, and just HAD to go to the Crazy Horse while we were in Vegas for a trade show in the 90s. I was over 30 by then, and was seeing everything with a different set of eyes.
Yuck.

I have no use for these places, and on the two occasions in which I was cajoled into going to a strip club (all related to bachelor parties) I disliked much of the experience. The second time I was a designated driver, and I was mostly annoyed, sitting there sipping a $5 Coke and watching my friends act like drunken idiots.

I recall one of the drunken attendees at the second place (a dive on 8 Mile Road in Detroit) paying $100 for a "VIP dance," and afterward staggering back and confiding in me: "this chick really likes me." Really? Really, dude?

And of course: because I am a thrifty SOB who was not interested in shelling out more dough than I had to ($10 cover and one overpriced Coke was enough for me), the naked women spent about 3.5 seconds in my vicinity, so even the prurient entertainment was of limited duration.

Frankly, not to be prudish, I did not find these women to be especially atractive. Sure, they were naked, so there was something of a hardwired-lizard-brain-physical-lust reaction on my part, but the artificial and contrived nature of the interactions with dancers rang very hollow. Also: the places crawl with lowlife customers, dudes who in the light of day I would suspiciously view with narrowed eyes and keeping close watch on my wallet.

In short: strip clubs are the kinds of places where a lot of unsavory characters can be found, and in general the less I associate with creepy people the less likely I am going to regret associating with creepy people.

I recall one of the drunken attendees at the second place (a dive on 8 Mile Road in Detroit) paying $100 for a "VIP dance," and afterward staggering back and confiding in me: "this chick really likes me."

The vast majority of these girls are interested in any relationship that does not involve getting the crap slapped out of them on a regular basis.

When it boils down to it, she is just another struggling Toledoan. "Can't work looking like this"? Apparently, she doesn't know about "The Vu" ? I say we go to her house and let her give us half off lap dances. I'm sure she has a couch. Plus, her little bad ass kid, the one who jumps on the car hood, could work the door.