And the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
I've been holding back on you. A few weeks ago when Dave and I came back from Mike & Donna's wedding, we ended up having a few friends over that night. Our friends Barney and Robin were visiting with our other friend, Lily (yup, changed all their names). We told them they could all come over and hang out, thinking we'd get something to eat.
We were sitting around, talking and drinking beer, and please do not ask me how the topic came up, but Robin commented that she had never been to a strip club before. Lily, who at one point in time worked in such an establishment, offered to take her to one. Barney of course thought this was a good idea, as did Dave. So they started planning when to go, deciding the following weekend would be a good time. I looked at Dave and said we couldn't do that because we had dinner plans that night, for our first anniversary.
Barney: That's perfect! What a better way to spend your anniversary than at a strip club! (Laughter followed.)
Me: Actually, it probably would. True story: That's what my parents did on one of their anniversaries--went to dinner with friends and then to a strip club.
No lie. And I'll bet they'd tell you about it if you asked.
After some more conversation, and realizing that only one person had to be at work the next day, we decided that there's no time like the present, and hopped in the car. Well, actually, I changed clothes, and then Robin and Lily got made at me for changing to so I had to lend them clothes. And shoes. And then we got in the car and drove to, um, Centerfolds.
We get there and the sign says "50 hot chicks and 3 ugly ones" so we know we're in for a good time. Since Lily knows the bouncer, we get in for free. Since she knows the bartender, our drinks are cheaper than $10 each. Good to know people.
Robin is visibly disturbed from the moment we walk in, so of course after we get our drinks and dollar bills, we take a seat up front by the stage. Not that it's difficult since there's barely anyone there (it was a Sunday night). In Robin's defense, skeevy doesn't even begin to describe this dive. It's just awful. The decor lost it's mojo at least 30 years ago, and it just feels...dirty. And not in a good way.
The sign outside about the 3 ugly chicks is not false advertising. These girls were...let's just say, they didn't have the A team on stage. Or the B team. And I think the C team might have been on vacation.
These girls were ugly. And lacked certain "features" that one would expect in such an establishment. But that didn't keep them from trying. Even though they couldn't dance. But they tried. To heavy metal.
You know what's not sexy? Ugly chicks who can't dance pretending they have rhythm while heavy metal blares from the speakers.
Poor Robin, looking absolutely mortified, was a little surprised at the "exposure." So of course we tried to buy her a private dance. Lily attempted to find someone who wouldn't make Robin cry, but alas, none of those types of girls were dancing that night. So saved by the ugly chicks, we gave up on that idea.
Although at one point, one of the dancers told Robin she had nice boobs.
So the three ugly chicks did their sets, and the DJ announces Molly coming to the stage.
Me: What kind of stripper name is Molly?
Dave: I dunno.
Me (Looking up as Molly takes the stage): Oh, she's cute! That's the kind of stripper name Molly is!
And she was. I guess we were back into the hot chick rotation. And she had the appropriate assets. And she could dance. So of course, I put up dollar bills in front of Dave and I and she came to dance for us.
Molly (mind you, she's dancing for this entire conversation): Hi guys!
Me: Hi, Molly!
Molly: Are you guys having a good time?
Dave and I both nod yes.
Molly: Good. It's like couples therapy! I don't know if it works for everyone, but it works for me!
Having no other response to that kind of statement, we laugh. Because really, what would you say? No, seriously, I want to know what would you say?
Molly to me (squeezing her boobs together): Go ahead, mama.
Yup, I put the money between her ta-tas.
After Molly finished her set, we decided to leave. In part because we'd been there long enough for Robin to say she's been to a strip club (hey, you keep saying you want to be bad ass). And in part because Mya, the next dancer to take the stage, was delayed in getting to the stage and then stood there with her arms crossed giving the DJ a surly look since he didn't have her music ready. I'm not sure anyone wanted to see how that was going to end.
Robin told me I couldn't blog about this. So I didn't. And then I decided that I'd just change her name for the story, because this was worth telling.
We left, got some food, went home, and ended our night. Totally not what I'd expected to be doing after traveling almost 6 hours to come home from a wedding, but it was a good time. And pretty funny.
And makes me want to tell Robin she has nice boobs next time I see her.
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