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Dudester

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<p>The recent questions in the discussion forum about why we go strip clubbing invoked different responses, and for good reason-we're all different. Because I'm an idealist, I've worked for social change in the way of political campaigns. The conservatives I've usually allied myself with salivate at the thought of closing all the strip clubs. These knuckleheads feel that sex and intimacy should only happen within the confines of marriage. Well, that's all fine, well, and good if you had a great life, and you married your high school sweetheart, who remains your truest and best friend, and lover. For those of us not that lucky though, the strip club is an absolute nescessity.</p>
<p>As men, we all have needs. Above all, we need to feel validated. Having a beautiful woman gently stroke us, and tell us we're attractive, and/or strong, soothes the savage beast within. Some men have imperfect marriages, or trouble with relationships. Some men just aren't able to marry for different reasons. I can only tell my story and explain why strip clubs need to exist.</p>
<p>My story starts when I was six. I woke up to a house in disarray. That morning, the family was scattering to the four directions of the wind. My mother took my brother, and I, and moved from the upper midwest to a small town in the middle of nowhere New Mexico. Instantly, she started acting like a teenager, dating, and generally, not being responsible. Within a year, she moved a monster in our house.</p>
<p>He was tall and ten years younger than her. There's a red flag that should go up when a man hurries to move in with a woman who has kids. It didn't take long for him to start touching my brother and I inappropiately. The beatings and rapes came soon after. Why a man has to use a weapon to beat a child one third their size baffles me. Of course, I now know it's about power, but men like this deservedly earn a special place in hell.</p>
<p>When I was in third grade I saw an episode of Family Affair (TV Show) that really stuck with me. Jody, whose well off uncle, provided everything Jody needed, so Jody was baffled when a friend suddenly cut way back on play time and hit the books really hard. It turned out that the friend was from a lower middle class family and needed good grades to get into a private school. I now had a game plan. I was going to escape hell by going off to a private school.</p>
<p>Studying hard has a price though. Many of the kids I went to school with were content to just play, and to hell with grades, and college, and other such stuff. I became an outcast, but things turned even uglier when Junior High started. Teachers explained the bell curve to students and I instantly became a target as I was the one throwing off their bell curve. How dare I get 98's when the next student got a 72. The beatings at school started, and it was never one on one. It was always fifty to one, or worse. The school turned a blind eye to it, not doing anything until I had been shot. Even then, the pilings on were allowed to continue, just no weapons.</p>
<p>After a beating at home that involved a firearm, I went to the Police. They threatened to kick my ass. The next morning, I saw a Judge. He kindly explained that according to the rules (early 1970's), that children were considered pathological liars and as such, couldn't press charges or testify in court. That afternoon, I saw a school counselor. She produced a book showing that state law forbid her to intervene in &quot;family business&quot;.</p>
<p>I was in hell.</p>
<p>That year, though, the beatings stopped. Days after I arrived in nowhere, I befriended some voluteer firefighters. Through those years, the volunteers were my only friends. By age 13, when the beatings, at school, and home, were at their worst, the firefighters finally stepped in. My mom told me that when she and the monster came out of a bar, four men came out of the bushes and laid a whupping on the monster. While he was on the ground, one of the men whispered in his ear. The monster never touched me again, but he would look at me with murder in his eye.</p>
<p>Within a year, the scholarship arrived. I left home, and never really returned, except for short visits. The only problem was, the school was also in the middle of nowhere, and it was an all male school.</p>
<p>Soon after graduating, I enlisted in the Marines. Stationed in San Diego, I quickly started going to strip clubs. What I hadn't seen in high school, and many guys already had, I was gazing upon naked female flesh for the first time. A little over a year later, I met Linda, my first and truest love. When she died suddenly in a car crash, three months later, I took it hard. Her best friend became my second. She also was my tutor. She taught me much about love and sex. If she hadn't had a problem with drugs, we'd probably still be together.</p>
<p>Over the next ten years, there were several other long term relationships, all of which crumbled. By my early thirties, I'd only had four lovers. When the last long termer also backed out, a longtime friend, a Police Chief, sat me down for a &quot;father/son talk&quot;. He explained that high dollar hookers were, in the long run, cheaper than wives, and a lot easier to deal with emotionally. However, high dollar hookers come from agencies that charge dearly. I decided to try the strip clubs. That way, I could pick what I wanted.</p>
<p>It took several years to find an ATF. She really spoiled me. She only charged 220, which started with the fee per session, which turned into the fee for overnights, and finally, for the weekends. It was about this time that we grew close, emotionally. I guess it spooked her, because she changed her club, address, and phone number. A friend of hers became my second ATF. For the first ten months, things were good, but she suddenly cut me off because she got arrested. The cops, literally, caught her with a dick in her mouth (at the club). I tried reasoning with her, but I eventually gave up. 18 months later, I ran into OTC Gal.</p>
<p>Sometime in the new year, when things are better for me, I'll go hunting for a new ATF. Were the conservatives to prevail, myself, and others, would go nutso. The club provides a needed break from the mundane. It provides a need for fantasy. It's important to not get lost in the game, but it's also vitally important to have the option. Men have certain needs and legislating morality won't provide us with a utopia, it'll create a hostile atmosphere that no one wants to live in. If I were to have my way, we'd legalize prostitution, but that's another discussion.</p>
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