Strip Club

I normally don’t do strip clubs, titty-bars, live nude showgirl bars, or whatever you want to call them but last night was different. I parked myself at a table along with three like-minded individuals with a fist-full of dollars and waited. We had all come together bent on a common cause and we sat around a table in the plush couches nursing beers as various naked women paraded themselves onstage and climbed the stripper pole to nowhere. The occasional dolled up stiletto heel wearing barely clad chick came up offering a table dance. The fellows at my table (myself included) all declined in a nonchalant manner. The other guys in the club were, by contrast, very chalant and were spending money as fast as they could dole it out. Our table held onto our dollars and our integrity.

This continued for about an hour and, while the server brought a steady stream of alcoholic beverages, the strippers learned to avoid our table as a fruitless endeavor. One chick was turned away by a guy in a UNLV jacket with the explanation “You’re too tall.” <------ That statement is what we in the literary world refer to as foreboding. I’ll pause for a moment while you write that down in your notes.

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Now at about an hour and a half in, after an endless steam of naked chicks, the headliner bounced onstage! For those of you who are wondering what special attraction could have pulled me out of my general no-strip club rule, here in all her glory was A MIDGET STRIPPER! Little body, big head, climbing the pole, bona fide OSHA inspected clothes removing little person!

I pushed through the thronging masses to the front of the crowd. The midget titty-faced this large black guy. She turned and ass bounced in front of a couple of other dudes. She attempted some sixty-niney positions with a couple of the regular sized strippers but the other chicks were getting none of the attention, everybody was focused on the main attraction. When she got to me she pointed to the dollar in my hand and motioned for me to put it in my teeth. I did so and she leaned forward and got it from me with her own teeth.

The only shame of the night was that there were no cameras allowed to emblazon that moment for posterity. So instead of a snapshot that could have rivaled the flag raising on Iwo Jima, all I have to offer you people is that moment clumsily recreated using my words. My meager, insufficient words that can never do justice to describing The Day I Got Turned on by a Midget Stripper!

3 Responses to “Strip Club”

  1. Phelps says:

    EVERYBODY OUT OF THE TREEHOUSE!!!1!!

  2. bwahahahahaahahahaha!!!!!!!!11
    eom

  3. Dan Stowell says:

    Mexi???Its obvious that you’re a titty bar rookie.Midget strippers will take 50 cents instead of a buck.Consult professionals before you go frivilously spending money,sheesh!

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