Sleazy strip bar: check.
Cheap beer consumed: check.
And lo, it was a Good Thing™.
See, a sleazy strip club (in this case a topless-only club) is different than something like a Deja Vu, or Ricks Cabaret, or a "high-class" club in that the sleazy club is less pretentious. It's not the pressure to separate you from your money like exists in the more upscale clubs.
The girls aren't as "top shelf"-- they're less "Vegas" and actually more real. None of the dancers tonight had fake breasts, they all had little flaws-- maybe stretch marks, maybe a little paunch, maybe crooked teeth. And perhaps because of this, they are more approachable.
And it was pretty much dead. So me having a pocket full of dollar bills, I went right up to the stage and started tipping.
I'm not the typical Sniffer's Row patron. I talk with the girls, make them laugh, treat them like people. Some of them like it, some don't. Most of them like it on slow nights. They like the tipping, because it usually breaks the ice and more guys come over and start tipping.
I also usually find something to compliment them on. It's not patter, it's genuine. Tonight I told one of the girls that she was pretty, and I think it surprised her. It earned me a few smooches, which was nice. Hey, getting smooches and attention from pretty naked women is something that I rather enjoy. That I'm paying for it is really no matter. It's an understood transaction: I pay money in exchange for attention.
I also am fully aware that these women wouldn't give me the time of day under normal circumstances. The fact that it's not real, also not an issue.
It never is real. At least this way I'm at least aware of it.