Saturday, June 02, 2007

Invaded By Idiots (Strip Clubs Redux)

I'd be hard-pressed to find anything more to say about strip clubs that I haven't said already. Some people might argue that a strip club is just another place to meet and socialize, like a bar or a dance club or a bake sale, and that the stripping isn't so much the important aspect as is the social networking that takes place just behind the scenes. The stripping is just the draw; people really go there to socialize.

The only problem with that theory is that the people who are generally found at either strip clubs or bars are people I would never, ever want to socialize with. Maybe they would be in normal, sober, social situations, but under the influence of alcohol if a person isn't acting like a total retard, they're trying to pick a fight with you, and getting harrassed by a sweaty, hammy imbecile who talks like they're having a stroke is not my idea of an enlightening conversation. I've only gone to a bar a few times in my life, and my experiences can be best illustrated in the one night I spent actively, passionately watching the movie Go with no sound because there was no one else in the entire establishment I would ever hold a conversation with in a normal social setting.

Some people go to bars and clubs with the hope of starting a relationship, but the types of people who typically go to bars with this end in mind are people with whom no one would ever realistically want to start a relationship with. Not all, but the typical woman who decides to go to a club to find a respectable man generally dresses in their most revealing outfits, behaves in a way that society dictates she should to please a man whose libido is larger than his mental capacity, and all of her inhibition and common sense is continually depleted with each alcoholic beverage she ingests until she's functionally rendered to nothing more than a manic objectification of sexual gratification with touseled hair, sweat-smeared make-up, displaced clothing, and dumpy physical features. At this point she's ready for the typical male barfly. Men go to bars and clubs for one main reason: women, plus alcohol, equals easy sexual prey. Alcohol removes women's better judgment, and the more alcohol the woman has in her, the more likely the guy is to get a piece of ass for the night.

Guys may cover it up by pronouncing the important social networking, or the desire to play pool or just the desire to have a drink, but I've seen enough of the bar and club scene and also the spillover of people looking to buy alcohol well after all of the bars close to "continue the party at home" to know exactly what most guys go to bars and clubs for: Whatever sweat-drenched thing will lay on its back and spread its legs for them by the end of the night. Guys look at going home from the bar or club alone as "striking out." Women should look at it like narrowly dodging a gigantic train wreck of their life. If the women heard how these guys talk about them when they're not around, they would want nothing ever to do with these guys ever again, but when under the influence of alcohol they just think it's "cute." How fucking desperate do you have to be? Seriously? I find dates on the Internet and I'm not that desperate.

So I have no desire to ever go to a bar or a club or especially not a strip club, which combines all of these elements with the prospect of seeing boobies, which is something that kind of lost its appeal with me around the time that I fucking got to see boobies. Now, although it's nice, boobies are not really that big of a deal, especially the fake ones that so often frequent strip clubs. Seriously, what are we, thirteen? If we want the instant gratification of having a woman show us her breasts for no reason, we can get that on the Internet for free. Just type any random word into Google Images, turn off the filter, and receive hundreds of thousands of porn pictures in 0.21 seconds. You get to see essentially the same thing, and oftentimes much more, than you can at a strip club and there's no cover and no tips. Essentially, you're wasting your money at a strip club by being a technologically inept idiot. There's a chance you might find a woman at a strip club, but the overall likelihood is not quite as promising as that of you finding really horny guys whose overwhelming urge to park their erection in something hot and tight before the night's over might not be of your best interest. Sometimes, if it's one of those clubs that likes to toe the line of the law, one of the dancers might choose to spend a little time after work with the highest bidder, but keep in mind that she doesn't really love you, and when you are done, you're still a lower middle class wage-burner with no love, no family, no future, and very little actual reason to live that doesn't involve beer, drugs, loud noise, and meaningless sex.

Some people might argue that bars, clubs, strip clubs, and alcohol is just fun, and if you don't understand that, then you don't know what fun is. Maybe I don't. To me, fun is being caught up in a compelling story or reading about the latest scientific breakthroughs, listening to good music, creating new landscapes with nothing but words as my palette and imagining worlds, scenarios, and interactions that just narrowly don't take place in real life. My idea of fun is sharing knowledge and debating philosophy between friends and learning from others' points of view. For that, alcohol is not needed, and to that, it pales in comparison. To me, fun is gaining knowledge that helps me build the bigger picture so I can continue troubleshooting this perplexing puzzle of life. That is the real challenge, after all, and I kind of view alcohol as an inhibitor to that goal. I've never needed alcohol for escapism or entertainment. For escapism I have my creativity, and for entertainment I have my sense of humor. I suppose I've never needed alcohol because I've always been "high on life." It sounds corny, but it's true. I enjoy just being alive enough to not need artificial influences to replace my contentment.

All that being said, the other day, a group of five or six college students strategically infiltrated my store. College freshmen. Fucking college freshmen. These are basically high school kids suddenly released into life with no real game plan except to try to outdo each other in behaving like idiots. These kids, and I wish to stress kids, filtered in and and took up positions in the ailes with almost military precision, if every single soldier had already been expended and the only people left to augment the military were clowns. I watched and could only fathom one possible scenario: "Oh my God, I'm being invaded by idiots."

These kids were all giddy because they had just been to a strip club for the first time. They were bragging about having a lap dance as if the stripper really gave two shits about them as a person outside of what they had in their wallets. Then they asked me if I'd ever been to a strip club. Of course I said "No." They asked why not. Now how do you answer this question keeping in mind that these kids were all under the age to drink and were not in any way inebriated so they would remember your conversation in the morning? There are so many ways to answer that, but none of those would fit the current scenario. For instance, I could almost not keep a straight face when my brain told me to say, "No, because I've been laid before." Once you get it for real, the prospect of getting it for fake kind of loses its appeal.

I could go with Rayne Summers' response in
Least I Could Do: "I hate those places. You know how once you're in a strip club for a while, you eventually take the nudity for granted and start focusing more on the buffet spread than the women? I refuse, refuse, to become desensitized to nude women. Every time I see a naked woman, I want to be all like, 'WOW. She's naked. That's awesome.'"

However I think my philosophy on strip clubs can be best summed up with this one simple statement that I came up with in response to the question at hand. "When I have a naked woman in front of me, I want it to be because I've earned it, not because I've paid for it." That is the real reason I don't go to strip clubs. Meaningless sex holds absolutely no interest to me, and with everything else involved being absolutely nowhere near anything I could possibly enjoy, it just all seems pointless.

np: Simple Minds - "Great Leap Forward"


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