Friday night's alright for drunken perverted fast-food-consuming escapades with half-naked boys
As you can possibly guess by the title, I'm finally doing a quick recap [per my experiences] of sadisticembrace's bachelorette party. It's not as if she didn't sum it up in the most eloquent of manners, but an important fact was left untold ...
IT WAS MY FIRST TIME AT A STRIP CLUB.
That being said ....
here's a nice picture of Cryssie [kemogrrl] prior to all hell breaking loose the debauchery.
Didn't I look pretty? I so rarely look/feel pretty, but I did that night. Of course, that was after I had consumed 2 beers, 1 glass of champagne, and a few shots. Then I maintained that by having a few more shots and some coolers.
Anyway.
I must have radiated this aura of strip-club virginity because we hadn't even sat down at the table yet when the dancer who was dominating our table gestured for me to come over. My mind is going "okay, wtf did I do? Wtf is he going to do? Wtf do I do?" .. so I went over. Where he promptly tried to hump my face through his little Hanes. I think I was more baffled than boggled, and just giggled and sat down.
[Insert dancers here and there, also trying to hump my face, but I can't really remember them, so we won't obsess over it.]
There was the guy who was on an issue of GQ once. He was kinda neat, but old. He had that old-guy look to him, but I guess he was still kinda okay. He put oil all over his body in a surfer-style motif. Anyway, I offered him $2 to shake his little thing, and I guess I didn't put it in his string well enough because it fell back out. I was trying to tell him it was falling out but he wouldn't listen until it had fallen out. *grumbles about men being stupid and not listening good* So I picked it back up and held it out to him. He -finally- understood why I was trying to get his attention and pulled me in for a hug .. face-to-chest. Oily. Wet. Oily. Chest. On my face. My face was still oily the next morning when showering at Dawn's. Gads it was oily.
But then, there was Gavin. *collective adoring sigh* He was cute. I approached him and waited until he was grinding the air in front of me to make my offer: $2 to read the writing on his wristband. He seemed caught offguard, and I loved it, and he obliged. I placed his money in the appropriate waist area and went on my way happily. :) Gavin was one of those skinny slightly-toned kinda guys. Normally I don't dig skinny guys, but the guy could -really- dance. And he had that platinum spiky hair thing going. I think it was the lack of abundant-muscles [that all the other strippers had] and the air-o-rebellion that made him so appealing to me.
Anyway, he eventually worked his way to our table. I didn't seem quite so obsessed with his body as I was with his ability to dance. Now seriously! The guy could do anything I asked him to do. The wave. The robot. ANYTHING. And because he was so awesome at dancing and had such a good tolerance of my behavior [i.e. - "do the wave now! Yeah! Woo hoo! Okay now the robot! Yeah! Woo hoo!"] I tried to make sure I was giving him a few bucks every now and again. He seemed to stay around our side of the table quite a bit, and yeah I probably shot him some come-hither eyes a few times, but I was having so much damned fun having this cute-as-hell guy lavishing attention on me like that.
[yes I know, he's a stripper, but still!].
Eventually he leaned down and propositioned me for a lap dance. I asked the cost, to which he replied $20. I told him it was too steep, and he said it was my loss then. "My loss?? Your loss! You're clearly the one who wants it." To which he said something, then I said something, and then we adopted the 'whatever!' type of approach that kept coming up all night. I think it's easier to talk smack and cop an attitude like I'm all ghetto when I'm decked out in more gold than you'd find in Nelly's mouth.
At some point I noticed I was talking to him entirely too much, so I played hard to get. He was still there. And he'd still try and get my attention. Okay, cool. So I tell Kim jokingly about the "offer" that was extended to me. The bitch naturally gave him $20 after that. *residual grumbles*
I've never been to a stripclub, so I've never had a lap dance. How do they work? I'm still not sure. Okay so yeah, I was nervous. I have a boyfriend that I absolutely adore, and here is this nearly-naked guy climbing all over me. Yes, I was pretty intoxicated, but it didn't help. It just made me giggle a lot more. Apparently girls are supposed to spread their legs open though. My legs weren't open enough, so I did my best impression of a girl doing the splits. Strippers like your legs open so they can massage your crotch with their knee. Then, they like to taunt you with teases about how much you're likely enjoying this even though you're too shy to admit it. At which point you reply that he's acting full of himself and he's not all that. At which point he stops grinding your crotch, and engages the lap dance next to you in a dialogue indicating that you don't find him attractive. Okay, you bite and state "well you're a really good dancer ..." ... 'and that's it?!?' [sincere disbelief] ... "well, and I really think you have cool hair. I guess you're okay." ... 'dude, she thinks I'm only okay!' .. then surfer-boy replies "what, you're gay?". Etc. In the end the people next to you end up thinking you're a canadian lesbian who came to texas to marry your girlfriend, thus you are a perfect match for the gay stripper riding your leg like a dog on uncle marty's leg at your family's xmas party.
Once all the sillyness is aside, and your attempts to engage the stripper in polite conversation fail [though apparently he works in construction as a day job ...], it ends up returning to flirtation. Next thing you know he's dragging your hands on his chest, then you're flicking his nipples while he's molesting your own [over clothing, of course], at which point it's getting weird so you return into uber-shy girl mode and start to fidget again. At which point he tells you he's getting aroused, and you say "whatever", and then he grabs your hands again to run them down his chest, and down his abs, and down his pelvic to his ....
...
(ahem)
...
firm penis.
[over clothing, of course].
At that point you just don't say anything else anymore, flush 25 different shades of magenta, and pray to god it ends soon because you haven't had sex in nearly a week, are horny as hell due to all the alcohol you've been consuming, not even factoring in the fact that you just touched a deliciously-cute stranger's forming erection. Carry the 5, divide by 27, and it's just not a good scenario. So you return to rambling about nonsense while he returns to fondling you, discussing the "I never" game played over dinner and how you were the only girl to have not sucked on a big toe, and hadn't been in a threesome, and x and y. He leans in and offers to help you work on your "I never"s later if you want. And .. then it's over. And you shake your head and move on.
You resist the urge to smack your friend upon returning to the table, and the urge to smack that grin off the stripper's face.
The rest of the night. Hrmmm. I gave him a few more dollars here and there. I blew kisses to the GQ dancer as fulfillment of my dare for the night [blow kisses at a stranger]. He seemed to want to talk to me after that, so I scampered away with a devious grin.
The only downside to the night was the manager there. I was at the bar ordering a drink and he came up next to me and slid his arm around my waist and leaned in close to me. When I pulled away and shot him a glare, all he had to say was "what, you're not having a good time?" and did this slimy snicker thing. Asshole.
But everyone seemed to have fun. I think I spent like $30 total at the bar, including drinks, which isn't too bad considering. I danced, I headbanged, I sang my little heart out and batted my baby blues. I looked good, I felt great, and had the time of my life. I think I would have had just as much fun at a normal bar, but the stripping ambiance was kinda cool. :)
Oh, and if you don't believe me about the breast groping thing, sadisticembrace has a group photo that proves it. Nyah. :P
... and now I feel shy about this. Ohhhh well.
IT WAS MY FIRST TIME AT A STRIP CLUB.
That being said ....
here's a nice picture of Cryssie [kemogrrl] prior to all hell breaking loose the debauchery.
Didn't I look pretty? I so rarely look/feel pretty, but I did that night. Of course, that was after I had consumed 2 beers, 1 glass of champagne, and a few shots. Then I maintained that by having a few more shots and some coolers.
Anyway.
I must have radiated this aura of strip-club virginity because we hadn't even sat down at the table yet when the dancer who was dominating our table gestured for me to come over. My mind is going "okay, wtf did I do? Wtf is he going to do? Wtf do I do?" .. so I went over. Where he promptly tried to hump my face through his little Hanes. I think I was more baffled than boggled, and just giggled and sat down.
[Insert dancers here and there, also trying to hump my face, but I can't really remember them, so we won't obsess over it.]
There was the guy who was on an issue of GQ once. He was kinda neat, but old. He had that old-guy look to him, but I guess he was still kinda okay. He put oil all over his body in a surfer-style motif. Anyway, I offered him $2 to shake his little thing, and I guess I didn't put it in his string well enough because it fell back out. I was trying to tell him it was falling out but he wouldn't listen until it had fallen out. *grumbles about men being stupid and not listening good* So I picked it back up and held it out to him. He -finally- understood why I was trying to get his attention and pulled me in for a hug .. face-to-chest. Oily. Wet. Oily. Chest. On my face. My face was still oily the next morning when showering at Dawn's. Gads it was oily.
But then, there was Gavin. *collective adoring sigh* He was cute. I approached him and waited until he was grinding the air in front of me to make my offer: $2 to read the writing on his wristband. He seemed caught offguard, and I loved it, and he obliged. I placed his money in the appropriate waist area and went on my way happily. :) Gavin was one of those skinny slightly-toned kinda guys. Normally I don't dig skinny guys, but the guy could -really- dance. And he had that platinum spiky hair thing going. I think it was the lack of abundant-muscles [that all the other strippers had] and the air-o-rebellion that made him so appealing to me.
Anyway, he eventually worked his way to our table. I didn't seem quite so obsessed with his body as I was with his ability to dance. Now seriously! The guy could do anything I asked him to do. The wave. The robot. ANYTHING. And because he was so awesome at dancing and had such a good tolerance of my behavior [i.e. - "do the wave now! Yeah! Woo hoo! Okay now the robot! Yeah! Woo hoo!"] I tried to make sure I was giving him a few bucks every now and again. He seemed to stay around our side of the table quite a bit, and yeah I probably shot him some come-hither eyes a few times, but I was having so much damned fun having this cute-as-hell guy lavishing attention on me like that.
[yes I know, he's a stripper, but still!].
Eventually he leaned down and propositioned me for a lap dance. I asked the cost, to which he replied $20. I told him it was too steep, and he said it was my loss then. "My loss?? Your loss! You're clearly the one who wants it." To which he said something, then I said something, and then we adopted the 'whatever!' type of approach that kept coming up all night. I think it's easier to talk smack and cop an attitude like I'm all ghetto when I'm decked out in more gold than you'd find in Nelly's mouth.
At some point I noticed I was talking to him entirely too much, so I played hard to get. He was still there. And he'd still try and get my attention. Okay, cool. So I tell Kim jokingly about the "offer" that was extended to me. The bitch naturally gave him $20 after that. *residual grumbles*
I've never been to a stripclub, so I've never had a lap dance. How do they work? I'm still not sure. Okay so yeah, I was nervous. I have a boyfriend that I absolutely adore, and here is this nearly-naked guy climbing all over me. Yes, I was pretty intoxicated, but it didn't help. It just made me giggle a lot more. Apparently girls are supposed to spread their legs open though. My legs weren't open enough, so I did my best impression of a girl doing the splits. Strippers like your legs open so they can massage your crotch with their knee. Then, they like to taunt you with teases about how much you're likely enjoying this even though you're too shy to admit it. At which point you reply that he's acting full of himself and he's not all that. At which point he stops grinding your crotch, and engages the lap dance next to you in a dialogue indicating that you don't find him attractive. Okay, you bite and state "well you're a really good dancer ..." ... 'and that's it?!?' [sincere disbelief] ... "well, and I really think you have cool hair. I guess you're okay." ... 'dude, she thinks I'm only okay!' .. then surfer-boy replies "what, you're gay?". Etc. In the end the people next to you end up thinking you're a canadian lesbian who came to texas to marry your girlfriend, thus you are a perfect match for the gay stripper riding your leg like a dog on uncle marty's leg at your family's xmas party.
Once all the sillyness is aside, and your attempts to engage the stripper in polite conversation fail [though apparently he works in construction as a day job ...], it ends up returning to flirtation. Next thing you know he's dragging your hands on his chest, then you're flicking his nipples while he's molesting your own [over clothing, of course], at which point it's getting weird so you return into uber-shy girl mode and start to fidget again. At which point he tells you he's getting aroused, and you say "whatever", and then he grabs your hands again to run them down his chest, and down his abs, and down his pelvic to his ....
...
(ahem)
...
firm penis.
[over clothing, of course].
At that point you just don't say anything else anymore, flush 25 different shades of magenta, and pray to god it ends soon because you haven't had sex in nearly a week, are horny as hell due to all the alcohol you've been consuming, not even factoring in the fact that you just touched a deliciously-cute stranger's forming erection. Carry the 5, divide by 27, and it's just not a good scenario. So you return to rambling about nonsense while he returns to fondling you, discussing the "I never" game played over dinner and how you were the only girl to have not sucked on a big toe, and hadn't been in a threesome, and x and y. He leans in and offers to help you work on your "I never"s later if you want. And .. then it's over. And you shake your head and move on.
You resist the urge to smack your friend upon returning to the table, and the urge to smack that grin off the stripper's face.
The rest of the night. Hrmmm. I gave him a few more dollars here and there. I blew kisses to the GQ dancer as fulfillment of my dare for the night [blow kisses at a stranger]. He seemed to want to talk to me after that, so I scampered away with a devious grin.
The only downside to the night was the manager there. I was at the bar ordering a drink and he came up next to me and slid his arm around my waist and leaned in close to me. When I pulled away and shot him a glare, all he had to say was "what, you're not having a good time?" and did this slimy snicker thing. Asshole.
But everyone seemed to have fun. I think I spent like $30 total at the bar, including drinks, which isn't too bad considering. I danced, I headbanged, I sang my little heart out and batted my baby blues. I looked good, I felt great, and had the time of my life. I think I would have had just as much fun at a normal bar, but the stripping ambiance was kinda cool. :)
Oh, and if you don't believe me about the breast groping thing, sadisticembrace has a group photo that proves it. Nyah. :P
... and now I feel shy about this. Ohhhh well.