I have never entered a strip club.
Sitting beside my male friends and watching women who want nothing to do with me remove their clothes has never appealed to me.
Unified public, unsatisfied arousal is just not my thing.
I attended a bachelor party at a strip club once, but when we arrived at the establishment, I told the guys that I would be waiting in the car, reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. They thought I was crazy, but when I told them that they could drink and carouse all they wanted, and I would be happy serve as their designated driver, they relented.
The one exception to my avoidance of strip clubs took place about 25 years ago in a McDonald’s crew room, but in that case, it was sadly a strip club of my own making.
Here is the story: