Drop In A Bucket List

Chapter 6 Show Me What You're Workin' With

“Show Me What You’re Workin’ With”

So like in the Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde for this item on the Bucket List I’m going to have to change a few names to protect the not so innocent. 

One night in a town far, far away, a group of guys celebrating a momentous occasion invited me to partake in an ancient tradition.  I debated my options.  Once they found out that their plans were on my bucket list, there was no way I was getting out of this adventure.  With a group full of guys, and only one other woman with me for moral support, I stepped into the alternate universe known as the Strip Club.  Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. 

With strobe lights pulsing and music pumping I braved my way into the sea of naked ladies.  I’m not going to lie for a few moments I was shell-shocked.  It took a few drinks for me to be able to pick my eyes up off the floor.  Needing liquid courage is a catch twenty-two.  I was seeing double of things I shouldn’t. 

All the guys I was with promptly forgot about me and turned all their attention to the buffet of titties.  I took in my surroundings, trying to come to terms with what I was doing.  The cranberry juice and vodka fueling this little charade was making my bladder scream.  I needed to use the restroom, but I was afraid of what I might find when I opened the door.

I gingerly pushed the door open with my foot, wishing I wasn’t wearing flip-flops.  Let’s face it a biohazard suit probably wouldn’t protect me from the disgusting things that might be lurking on the surfaces of this place.  I peered into the bathroom.  Thankfully I found it free of people and cleaner than I expected.  I went into a stall to do my business. 

Only a few seconds passed before someone else came in.  A voice on the other side of the stall spoke to me.

“Can you believe these stupid bitches are giving blowjobs in the back?”

It’s a good thing I was sitting down.  Awkward.  I didn’t really know what to say.

“Wow, that’s messed up,” was the best I could come up with. 

I finished in the restroom and walked out to wash my hands (boiling them in bleach would have probably been a better idea).   Why I was surprised to see a naked woman standing in front of the mirror was beyond me.  I guess it really wouldn’t make much sense for a stripper to put her clothes on to pee.  Apparently the naked woman was even more surprised to see me.

“Oh s**t.  I thought you were one of the bartenders.  You can’t repeat what I just said.”

I’m pretty tipsy at this moment, and in my altered state I’m proud of this stripper for being offended about the s*x in the champagne room. 

“Don’t worry I won’t say anything.  And by the way, you don’t have to stoop to doing things you don’t want to do.”

Seriously, I actually told a stripper to take the high road.  See Mom, my moral bankruptcy case is still pending.

The stripper smiled, fluffed her hair, and said, “Hell no I don’t.”

We laughed and high fived.  Yes, I high fived a naked stripper in a bathroom.  That’s how I roll.  Feeling like I should end the conversation on a positive note I compliment the only thing that chick was wearing,  “I love your shoes.”

She blew a kiss as she replied, “Thanks sweetie.  Have a good time.”

No thank you random stripper, I will.

After making friends with a workingwoman I rejoined the rest of my group.  Actually a more accurate description was I sat at a table near the stage and contemplated the type of women men are really interested in.  I turned to the other woman brave enough to be in this God forsaken place and said, “I can’t compete with all of this.”

With all the confidence of a woman newly married to a great guy, she says with an arm flourish toward the stage, “This is just for fun.  In the end they always want this.”  She gently tapped her temple indicating that men really did value women for more than their bodies.  I desperately wanted to believe her, but come on, fake titties win ninety nine times out of one hundred.

Could it be possible?  All I hear about is how men want a lady in the parlor and a freak in the bedroom.  Honestly, what woman can be all of the things a man wants?  Ugh, the longer I sat among the superior chesticles the more I picked apart my body.  Yeah, I needed one more reason to feel like I don’t measure up.  Brilliant plan.

We sipped our drinks for a while and then a fight between our group and the dj nearly broke out.  I ran into the fray trying to avert disaster.  Bouncers bounced us.  So not only did I go to a strip club, but I got kicked out of one as well.  Go big or go home.  As the police showed up, all I could think was, “Dear Lord Baby Jesus, please don’t let me wind up on the news.”  Tears were shed, hyperventilation took place, and a getaway drive was endured.  Looking back I’m sure the guys I was with were super glad they brought a girl to a strip club.  Good times.

I’d like to say every item on the bucket list was something designed to enhance my life in some positive way, but I’m dealing with a divorce.  Stupid ideas are bound to find their way to the List. 

I’m not sorry I went, but as I shared waffles with my partners in crime, I realized that type of debauchery just wasn’t for me.  I went to a strip club, and all I got was hand sanitizer, an awesome t-shirt that I can never wear in public, and a badass story. 

Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention, not one but two of the guys in this group of strip club goers, hit on me hardcore all night.  They were actually both following me around and basically cutting each other down and trying to get my attention.  It was all in good fun though.  Hi Zatarain and JJ.  Wink. It was a complete and total confidence boost.  Neither one of them won, but the attention was a fun compliment. So the crazy evening wasn't a total loss.