[Editor's Note: Don't worry, despite the title, this post of PG-13.]
The other night I was flipping through the channels and somehow ended up on the Ice Cube/LisaRaye ghetto atrocity Player's Club. One thing I never have quite been able to fully comprehend is the allure of strip clubs. In my short 35 years, I've only set foot in such an establishment twice, both times in the mid-90's, and both times I was with a couple of frequent commenters here (tsk tsk) who will surely weigh in with their pity remarks you know where.
The first time was a guy's night out to celebrate the early graduation and subsequent matriculation to a well paying corporate gig for one of my buddies. The club itself wasn't too far from the campus of our
Negro College HBCU, and I'd frequently heard chatter on campus that some of our schools sweet and innocent co-eds often secretly moonlit there to work out their Daddy issues earn extra money for books and tuition. I'm no prude, but the possibility of running into some girl in one of my 300 level Engineering courses was certainly gonna make for an odd situation.
And wouldn't you know it, no sooner than we step in the door, there's a girl from my Astronomy class on stage, shakin' her money maker. I distinctly remembered her (let's call her Anissa) because once, waaay earlier in the semester, we'd somehow ended up in the same study group (yeah, I know, study groups for astronomy, make your jokes already), which was only notable because she otherwise stayed in the back row of the classroom and didn't say much. She wasn't incredibly good looking, and was otherwise shy and reserved. She's the last person you'd ever imagine droppin' it like it's hot and doin' somethin' strange for some change.
But there Anissa was, gyrating away to 8Ball and MJG while getting her thong stuffed with dollar bills. For a very brief moment, we locked eyes, and I saw a distinct "damn" look on her face. It was prolly the same expression of sadness and pity I had on mine. After all, she was strippin', but I was in the club indirectly paying to see her strip. I'm still at a loss for which of these is more pathetic. Help me sort this out in the comments if you feel so inclined.
Everytime I ran into Anissa on the yard thereafter, we exchanged the same "damn" look and kept it movin'. I could only imagine how many other dudes Anissa exchanged that very same "damn" look during the course of everyday, and whether or not that bothered her as much as it sorta kinda bothered me. I really hope she used that lapdance money to futher her education, but if her performance in that Astonomy class was any indication of the rest of her academic success, chances are she's on a pole somewhere in America right now, and there's prolly some 8Ball and MJG playing in the background. Sad, but likely true.
But perhaps even more pathetic than strippers are the tricks who pay to watch them strip. Again, I'm certainly not immune to the beauty of the female physique. Who is? But I don't fully comprehend why some dudes (key word: some) pay good money (I'm assuming) to be lied to, manipulated, tricked, and teased out of their money with virtually zero chance of getting anything in return. You've got a better chance of eventually scoring if you have even a minimal amount of game and meet a nice young lady anywhere but a strip club. I guess they say it ain't trickin' if you got it, but you sure as hell can't pay the rent if you blew your check on lapdances.
I surely hope I'm not inadvertently insulting any of my readers who are exotic dancers, or patrons of exotic dancers, but could one of ya'll explain the allure of this to me?
Question: Why do some women strip for money? Ladies, be honest. Have you ever even remotely considered doing this for cash? Fellas, if you're a patron, please explain the allure of paying for something you can't have? Is it true that it ain't trickin' if you got it?
 Seriously. I know tips are s'posed to add up, and you make bigger money for bigger "tasks", but c'mon. Dollar bills to grope your booty? You can't even buy a freakin' Kit Kat bar for a dollar nowadays. Have scrip clubs been effected by the recession too? Are they requiring 5 dollar bills and up nowadays? I'm clearly not up on the booty club ettiquette, so help me out.