F#@# It

Getting a lap dance can be a lot like going to the doctor.  First of all, it is very therapeutic.  I firmly believe that lap dances are good for the mind, body, and soul.  That’s why, even though I’m a woman,  I indulge in lap dances every time I visit a strip club with my friends.  There’s something about a half-naked, sweaty girl gyrating in your lap that just makes the world seem a like a slightly better place in the moment.  (I’m bicurious.)

Getting a lap dance is also like going to see a doctor in the way that you don’t know where your doctor has been before he comes in to see you.  Think about it.  You stroll into a strip club around 11:30 PM.  Chances are, the stripper you choose to get a dance from has probably been working since at least 8:30 PM.  How many laps has she sat upon before yours?  How many guys breathed their hot breath into her hair before you walked in?  And your doctor?  While she is telling you to stick your tongue out so she can check for strep throat, you don’t want to imagine the possibilities of where her little gloved hands were prior to your appointment.

Don’t worry, I’m probably one of cleanest strippers you’ll ever meet.  I wash my hands right away every time I emerge from a private room or lap dance.  And should some creep overstep his welcome and drool upon my shoulder, I will either dump a bottle of hand sanitizer on the afflicted area or put my neck in the sink and wash it.  However, you still just don’t want to know.  At least, I don’t.

That’s why I get irritated when a girl sees me sitting with someone and says “Ohh heeey!  I ain’t seen you aaaaall niiiight.  You were sooo busy, I didn’t even know you were here!”  I telepathically tell her to shut up, shut up, shut. Up.  But she’ll just smile and her eyes will sparkle as she continues to talk.

I start imagining my innocent looking doctor at work treating other patients before seeing me.  A receptionist’s voice rings out in my mind, “Bob?  Yes, the doctor will be in to do your rectal exam in just a moment.”

Awhile back, when there was an after-hours nude club close by where I work, a friend that I work with and I stopped in to check it out when our shift was over.  It was a Friday night and we arrived at about 2:30 AM.  The strippers came up to us one by one and flirted with us, teased us, and asked us if we’d like to do dances.  I watched as a stripper put her bare breasts in my friend’s face.  He smiled and tipped her a dollar.  After she left, I asked him, “Do you ever wonder how many faces she had in between her boobs before yours?”  He cocked his head to the side and contemplated it.

“Hmm…  Probably a lot.”  For the rest of the time that we were in the club, we thought about it in silence.  This was a problem for us that hadn’t existed in our minds prior to this day.  What would we do?  Not get lap dances?  Hell, no!  Lap dances are essential to the wellbeing.

The solution didn’t come to us until we were walking out through the dimly lit parking lot toward our cars who were waiting for us in the shadows.  “You know what?” My friend said, “When you’re drunk and having a blast, you just don’t care.”  He’s right.

Sometimes in life there are no clear solutions.  You simply adopt a new policy to deal with things that just don’t jive with your existing policy.  Fuck it, you only live once.  And if you’re going to catch a cold, you might as well catch it from in between the tits of stripper.

 

 

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