Random Esquire

So. Gone on some dates but one woman, in particular, is making life more interesting on many levels. (Nickname: Plush) After a Friday night confession that I had never been to a strip club, Plush decided to rectify the situation on Saturday night.

Let me explain something. You know how some people can’t enjoy a musical because they can’t get past the fact that people don’t really burst into spontaneous song? That’s how I felt about strip clubs; I wasn’t sure I would enjoy it because I thought I wouldn’t get past wondering what the hell each girl’s story was. The Italian solved this for me by explaining that every stripper’s story was that she was working her way through college. Thank you, The Italian! Problem solved.

We went in a group to said strip club. The first thing that struck me was that there was valet parking. Now, I know I’m new at this but do they normally have valet parking? Having valet parking at a strip club strikes me a little like a prostitute leaving chocolates on your pillow. But what the hell do I know?

One of Plush’s friends surprised me by purchasing a lap dance for me. A stripper extended her hand to me and I took it, wide-eyed. It occurred to me that I should stand up before someone had to whisper to me, “She’s not going to hold your hand, you have to follow her.” So I followed her.

Now, not only was this a tad bit awkward, it was compounded by the fact that the entire table could look into the room and see me. (Frankly, the way I figure it, the more people concerned about my happiness, the better off I am, right?) The stripper had some after-market, non-factory parts and she proceeded to powder my cheeks with them. As someone who once suggested this method as the perfect alarm clock, I did not complain. There were the other random positions and shakes and then I made my way back to the table.

I returned the favor by getting a lap dance for the guy who had gotten me one and he requested the same stripper. When it was over, we compared notes. It seems she did the same odd thing – when she was giving us the motor boat treatment, she made little kissy noises. We also decided that when you lapdance (new verb – work with me) with someone, you lapdance with everyone they’ve lapdanced with…I said to the guy, “Dude, that means we’ve lapdanced.” This struck us as uproariously funny… because that’s what $10 beers do to you. You’ve already lost some of your judgment at that point.

So I can conclude by saying that it was not just another typical weekend in the Random household, thanks to Plush. I’ve averaged about 3-4 hours of sleep the last three nights. So, why am I still grinning?