Once again "Why Stripclubs?" - this time a literary answer
unbelheathen
Pennsylvania
I stumbled across this passage in a novel I read recently by the American author Andrew Vachss. I'm more a fan in the neighborhood - sleaze range than "Gentlemen's Club" realm, but I think this passage covers my impression of the high-end scene fairly well, and also applies to some of my motives - e.g. the conversation and openness of the experience.<br />
<br />
I'd like to hear from "Gentlemen's Club" fans in particular if you think it is applicable.<br />
<br />
The narrator is, broadly speaking, a detective and is interviewing a club owner.<br />
<br />
Begin excerpt from "Another Life"<br />
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<p>Where is the money in a whorehouse?" the black-coated man scoffed. He had a rabbinical face, with gentle, moist eyes. We'd done business before.</p>
<p>He took a deep hit off a hand-rolled cigarette that looked as crudely effective as an Uzi, said: “When a man goes to a whorehouse, he pays, he finishes, and he leaves. But a strip club, if everything is handled properly, instead of minutes, the man stays hours. And instead of taking a few dollars, you can bleed him white.</p>
<p>“Even those escort services, what is the ceiling—a couple of thousand, maybe, for all night? In a well-managed club, a man will spend many times that. He can buy magnums of champagne, glittery gifts for the girls, Cuban cigars . we have it all.</p>
<p>"We make that man a king, yes? He snaps his fingers, and a dozen gorgeous women are at his feet. They stroke him, put on shows for him, call him whatever he wants to be called. Any whore can spread her legs; our girls know how to work the mark. This is no easy task, and it takes more than beauty to be successful at it . . . but their rewards are spectacular.</p>
<p>"With a club, we can take credit cards. Corporate accounts. Men bring their friends for business lunches, gather their associates to celebrate a big deal they just closed. Girls for everyone, on the house!</p>
<p>"If they have the money, they can be tycoons, Malia chieftains, movie producers - anything at all. When they enter our club, what they wish to be is what they are. The world becomes their world. Only a privileged few get a glimpse of paradise, but for those who do, it is more addictive than any drug.</p>
<p>"These are gentlemen's clubs," he said, his voice shifting toward a hint of what might happen to anyone who took his establishments for anything else. "No stuffing cash in G-strings, no ATM machines in the lobby, no blowjobs under the table. It is not sufficient that the women be beautiful; they must be cultured and refined as well. The furnishings must be correct. The Lighting is very important. No blasting music, no. . . garishness of any kind. Ambiance is critical. And security is discreet.</p>
<p>"We create all this magnificence. No matter what the outside world holds for him, once inside one of our clubs, the client is far more than a mere sultan; he becomes a god. What would you pay to be a god?"</p>
<p>I watched him puff on the coarse cigarette, keeping my body posture attentive to my role. Part of that role was not answering questions that weren't questions.</p>
<p>“In a whorehouse. the merchandise is used. Used hard; used often. And what is used must, eventually, be used up. We rotate the girls among our clubs, keep them fresh, like flowers.</p>
<p>“Of course, we still have to accommodate the local police, but the expense is minor... especially compared to an actual bordello. That is why all the real competition is over territory. You can open a club anywhere, but the finest setup will not attract the clientèle we require if it is located in some remote area. So...</p>
<p>He never finished the last sentence, but the firebombing of a newly opened strip club on the West Side was still a hot story on the news. No suspects.</p>
<p>Time to show I'd been paying attention. "The blackmail risk is next-to-nothing, too," I said. "Every time a madam gets busted, she threatens to open her black book if they bring her to trial. But you show a tape of a guy walking into a strip club, it won’t even cost him a divorce, much less a career.</p>
<p>“Uh . . . occasionally, an employee will overestimate the value of certain information,” he said, opening his hands slightly. "No matter how well a casino screens its employees, there will always be some dealer who palms chips. Or cooperates with a team of signal-passers at the blackjack table. It costs money to prevent the loss of money. You see?</p>
<p>“Yeah. In your business, blackmail threats are aimed at the customers, not the house, but protection is part of what your customers pay for. Same reason why a casino has to guarantee the games aren’t fixed.</p>
<p>"Correct. And there is also what you people call an 'ancillary benefit'. The targets of such threats are generally not experienced in how to deal with them. So they turn to those who are. I nodded.</p>
<p>"All they have to do is keep on paying." the black-coated man said. "For as long as their money lasts, the world is as they wish it to be. We create that world. And we maintain that world, as any blackmailers quickly discover. Although you claim otherwise. America has its own class system. Money. Whorehouses are for peasants. Our establishments, they are for royalty."</p>
<br />
<br type="_moz" />
<br />
I'd like to hear from "Gentlemen's Club" fans in particular if you think it is applicable.<br />
<br />
The narrator is, broadly speaking, a detective and is interviewing a club owner.<br />
<br />
Begin excerpt from "Another Life"<br />
-----<br />
<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" />
<title></title>
<meta content="OpenOffice.org 3.2 (Linux)" name="GENERATOR" />
<p>Where is the money in a whorehouse?" the black-coated man scoffed. He had a rabbinical face, with gentle, moist eyes. We'd done business before.</p>
<p>He took a deep hit off a hand-rolled cigarette that looked as crudely effective as an Uzi, said: “When a man goes to a whorehouse, he pays, he finishes, and he leaves. But a strip club, if everything is handled properly, instead of minutes, the man stays hours. And instead of taking a few dollars, you can bleed him white.</p>
<p>“Even those escort services, what is the ceiling—a couple of thousand, maybe, for all night? In a well-managed club, a man will spend many times that. He can buy magnums of champagne, glittery gifts for the girls, Cuban cigars . we have it all.</p>
<p>"We make that man a king, yes? He snaps his fingers, and a dozen gorgeous women are at his feet. They stroke him, put on shows for him, call him whatever he wants to be called. Any whore can spread her legs; our girls know how to work the mark. This is no easy task, and it takes more than beauty to be successful at it . . . but their rewards are spectacular.</p>
<p>"With a club, we can take credit cards. Corporate accounts. Men bring their friends for business lunches, gather their associates to celebrate a big deal they just closed. Girls for everyone, on the house!</p>
<p>"If they have the money, they can be tycoons, Malia chieftains, movie producers - anything at all. When they enter our club, what they wish to be is what they are. The world becomes their world. Only a privileged few get a glimpse of paradise, but for those who do, it is more addictive than any drug.</p>
<p>"These are gentlemen's clubs," he said, his voice shifting toward a hint of what might happen to anyone who took his establishments for anything else. "No stuffing cash in G-strings, no ATM machines in the lobby, no blowjobs under the table. It is not sufficient that the women be beautiful; they must be cultured and refined as well. The furnishings must be correct. The Lighting is very important. No blasting music, no. . . garishness of any kind. Ambiance is critical. And security is discreet.</p>
<p>"We create all this magnificence. No matter what the outside world holds for him, once inside one of our clubs, the client is far more than a mere sultan; he becomes a god. What would you pay to be a god?"</p>
<p>I watched him puff on the coarse cigarette, keeping my body posture attentive to my role. Part of that role was not answering questions that weren't questions.</p>
<p>“In a whorehouse. the merchandise is used. Used hard; used often. And what is used must, eventually, be used up. We rotate the girls among our clubs, keep them fresh, like flowers.</p>
<p>“Of course, we still have to accommodate the local police, but the expense is minor... especially compared to an actual bordello. That is why all the real competition is over territory. You can open a club anywhere, but the finest setup will not attract the clientèle we require if it is located in some remote area. So...</p>
<p>He never finished the last sentence, but the firebombing of a newly opened strip club on the West Side was still a hot story on the news. No suspects.</p>
<p>Time to show I'd been paying attention. "The blackmail risk is next-to-nothing, too," I said. "Every time a madam gets busted, she threatens to open her black book if they bring her to trial. But you show a tape of a guy walking into a strip club, it won’t even cost him a divorce, much less a career.</p>
<p>“Uh . . . occasionally, an employee will overestimate the value of certain information,” he said, opening his hands slightly. "No matter how well a casino screens its employees, there will always be some dealer who palms chips. Or cooperates with a team of signal-passers at the blackjack table. It costs money to prevent the loss of money. You see?</p>
<p>“Yeah. In your business, blackmail threats are aimed at the customers, not the house, but protection is part of what your customers pay for. Same reason why a casino has to guarantee the games aren’t fixed.</p>
<p>"Correct. And there is also what you people call an 'ancillary benefit'. The targets of such threats are generally not experienced in how to deal with them. So they turn to those who are. I nodded.</p>
<p>"All they have to do is keep on paying." the black-coated man said. "For as long as their money lasts, the world is as they wish it to be. We create that world. And we maintain that world, as any blackmailers quickly discover. Although you claim otherwise. America has its own class system. Money. Whorehouses are for peasants. Our establishments, they are for royalty."</p>
<br />
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2 comments
I wish club owners would get it that if you let the girl do her job and give the customer the fantasy he is looking for then the bar would be packed and maybe our house fee's would go down .
you guys all bitch and complain our prices this and that well we have expences on top of the current or past due bills that are piling up .. from too many slow nights due to strick managment policy dictated, of course, by the presence of the Coppers ,, so bewteen High house fee's , too many bouncers not letting any fantasies go down ,, and coppers chasing drunks trying to sneak home .. the price of a fantasy has to go up . higher the price better the fantasy ,,
or not .