1.) I am major-league soused up right now. Went to The Saville, which is an upscale strip club downtown.
By upscale, I mean they had a dress code, and were topless only and served alcohol.
Corollary: alcohol and boobies are a powerful combination.
They have "shot dances", which I managed four of with a lovely woman whose name I can't quite remember (Amanda?) except that she was of mixed puerto rican descent and had a possibly perfect ass, and served me shots of Jager and Grolschlager from her mouth (through a very sanitary system of shot carafes), and who was very nice and exceptionally fit, and very friendly and sat on my lap occasionally as the night went on.
I originally met Tony & Kristi there, and were met by Sasha and Chris. Minneapolis on a warm spring saturday night is absolutely full of people, and it took me 45 minutes to find a place to park. I think I got to the club around 11:00, but I did manage to snag an excellent parkplatz, which kind of made up for the whole ordeal of driving, being stuck at stoplights, missed turns, and the general downtown parking crap.
The Saville is kind of nice. It pretends to be upscale, and has a lot of female clientele (30% or so), which is nice. Minneapolis strip clubs tend to be "safe" and a touch on the nonerotic side, which makes experimentation a little easier, and more than enjoyable.
For a single guy, it can be ugly/horrendous/abysmal if you don't "get" the whole concept:
Strip clubs are not about eroticism. They are about performance and aesthetics, and separating a man from his money. Quickly and easily. They are not a place wher you can pick up women easily. If you get past that and are into the concept of just enjoying naked (or quasi-naked) women at the expense of the pieces-of-paper-blessed-by-the-treasury-w
On the unfortunate side, I was in the middle of a pair of couples. One married, and obviously in love with each other and enjoying themselves a lot, and who I love very dearly. The other, while being strongly attached, less obviously in love and more in lust-on-hold. While I so much wanted to buy them a dance-for-the-couple, it was not to be for reasons to be expressed in a more private disclosure.
Some things came back to me while I was getting my performance freak on:
A.) I really enjoy strippers. Good ones will make you feel special, even when you know you aren't. And they have the finest asses known to mankind. Consider thhat if you work a daily 8-hour shift with a lot of crouching, your thighs and ass will become as defined as a mysogyinist bas-relief.
B.) I could (and probably should) date a stripper. While I really would like an emotionally stable stripper (chorus: "Good Luck"), there is something very appealing about the physicality and performance aspect of stripping that I find very appealing.
I admit that I really like women who are good at being naked. Women who enjoy being naked and turning men on, or more specifically, turning me on. Even if it's fake. The performance aspect of it makes me happy, even if I know it's not real.
C.) That most likely means that despite my reluctance to admit it, I am a slave to the physical.
D.) which makes for a very bad dichotomy in my life, because I am not a gorgeous physical specimen.
(vixenly, you have no idea how much I want to spar right now. And honestly, you would be hard-pressed to be kicking my ass.)
I am not enamored with my sense of self right now. I am a bit disgusted with the things that I have discovered about myself, but being honest takes precedence, and I am modef a fan of the ass.
Becoming a creature who can achieve the ass is a completely different set of rule-cakes.
2.) I am quite soused-up. After coming home, I decided to continue drinking until I obtained oblivion. If this sounds self-abusive, you're goddamn right it is.
3.) I respect women. If you think that my going to a strip club somehow is disrespectful or "objectifying", you are sorely mistaken.
4.) Fear and self-loathing doesn't have to be in 'Vegas.