I got a call from a friend of mine Saturday morning. She was looking for a classy strip club to go with her husband, and naturally she called me. Since I'm actually not too familiar with the strip clubs in Houston, preferring the anonymity of going out of town, I consulted Jethro who, bless his dear little lecherous heart, has his finger on the pulse so to speak.
Jethro gave a couple of recommendations, and Jill found a place that was letting couples in free for Valentine's Day weekend. I'd been drinking a little before we got there and then I had a Long Island along with several sips of Jethro's scotch. I was pretty hammered. The titties all started to blen together, and due to Houston's silly 3 foot rule, the nipples were all glowing with liquid latex.
So I started playing with matches because I do stupid shit like that when I'm hammered. I think the budget for this particular strip club must have gone to the gaudy chandeliers on the ceiling which gave the whole place the effect of the Haunted Mansion at Disney World, because when I lit the match, part of the burning head flew off and stuck to my finger while it was on fire. It hurt pretty badly, but fortunately I play guitar so my fingers are fairly calloused. Still, it wasn't pleasant and I stuck my finger in my Long Island iced tea for awhile. Finally, I decided I should wash it off, so I went to the bathroom where several strippers were blowing coke or something in the stalls.
As I was tenderly bathing my finger, the strippers would walk past giving me odd looks. It took me a bit to realize how peculiar I must have looked standing there delicately washing one digit. But oh, the irony of being in a strip club, surrounded by throngs of duck-footed losers, and have the naked women, titties jiggling, thongs flashing, looking at me funny. And I probably looked even funnier with my finger covered in creamy burn ointment a few minutes later.
We left the club and went to our friends' bar they've just opened. The high point of my evening was waving my finger at a friend of ours, all covered in white shit, and telling him I'd just been to a tittie bar. I can't remember how he took it, but I sure did enjoy saying it. I was drunk.
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1 comment:
As always...great story telling.
We've only gone to a strip club one time with one other couple....we need more strip club companions, so like I said....we really need to hang out. :P
Sam | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 12:57 am | #
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Sounds like a grand time, actually. Nice when the unshockable raise an eyebrow at you!
phlegmfatale | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 3:15 am | #
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A white gooey finger...
Inanna | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 11:03 am | #
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At least you weren't talking to your finger while you were washing it. I recall an earlier post of yours that involved talking to your own hand. If you had, the tittie girls would probably ask you for a little of whatever drug you were on.
Jen | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 1:14 pm | #
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ONe of the better memories of my life was being at a strip club, very drunk, and thinking I was walking outside for a smoke and instead accidently walking into a roomful of strippers, two of whom were making out. I always thought that stuff was just fantasy...
Gooch | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 1:14 pm | #
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Sam - It's just a once in a while thing, but next time we go, we'll let you know.
Phlegmmy - Their pupils may have been dialated, but their eyebrows were definitely raised.
Inanna - It was pretty funny.
Jen - I probably was, but I don't think they needed whatever drug I was on.
Gooch - That had to be cool. The gal I was with heard two ladies making out, but one was a stripper and the other was about 400 lbs. Thankfully they were in a stall, so everyone was spared the visual. I think money was involved.
Zelda | Homepage | 02.15.06 - 2:33 pm | #
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You need to do a write up in the Chronicle of all the good, bad and ugly stip joints in the metro area. Seriously, it's a service some need.
Kristin | 02.15.06 - 2:51 pm | #
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