Live To Fight Another Day

A while back I was at a rock concert. During the show, the two guys standing by me started talking to me seeing as how I was a big fan and seemed to know the band. They were big fans of the band as well and had driven from another state just to come to this concert. After the show ended, we chatted some more and finished up our alcoholic beverages. The venue was kicking everyone out soon and somehow the idea popped into my head that we should go to a nearby strip club and continue drinking and see some pussy and tits. Of course, before leaving, I talked to the front man of the band and invited them to come over to the strip club after they loaded their equipment into the trailer. The singer said that it would be fun, but was noncommittal. Honestly, they were probably making about as much money as a factory worker after all of their road costs and couldn't afford to the blow money. If you are not Korn or Five Finger Death Punch, you are not exactly getting rich touring.

So me and my two comrades hit the club and party like rock stars. We had some of the hottest ladies in this upscale club all over laps and table. I actually think it was because the crowd of 100 or so patrons was really cheap this particular night, and we were the only ones constantly spitting out dollars on the stage, buying dancers drinks, and buying lap dances like they were going out of style. Both of the guys from the rock show were getting very buzzed and really start testing the limits, smacking asses on stage and sliding their fingers on the dancers pussies when they tip. None of the dancers or many bouncers seemed to care. They claimed where they come from, strip clubs are much wilder. Eventually these guys are running out of money, and are thinking about getting a cab and going home with their last $40. Only they want to end the night with a grand exit and get kicked out of the club.

The first guy starts ripping the paneling off the side of the stage. The stage is elevated and held up by a framework, but between all of the framework is wood paneling. So he starts ripping the wood panels off. First one, then a second one. The bouncers inside the club, and there are at least eight of them, don't notice or don't care. A few minutes later, the other guy tells me he only has change left and is going "to throw a quarter at that black bitch on stage". He hits her right on the ass when she is on the pole, and the quarter goes clanging on the stage. The dancer comes over to him and ask, "Did you just throw a quarter at me?" He denies it, and she doesn't seem to be upset. So far their plan to get kicked out is not working. Their next idea is for one of them to climb up on stage and start grinding on the dancer. I am pretty sure this will not go over well and get noticed since about 100 people and half of the bouncers are staring at the stage. I have seen guys jump up on stage before in other clubs, only to get dragged off in a choke hold. I try to talk them out of it, but they are adamant on getting ejected. Everyone in the club saw the three of us partying all night, so at the very least I will be guilty by association. As soon as one of them get up that stage, it's on like Donkey Kong.

I love fighting, but based on my observations throughout the night, this was not the club to start something. If the bouncers were suited-up frat boy types, I would have loved to have brawled, but this was just not the case. While the bouncers working the floor were not too intimidating (the kind of guys that thought they were hot shit because they got to see naked women everyday at work), the bouncers that really worried me were the ones working the door. All three of them were stout, had buzz cuts, and were not amused at a gun joke that I told them on the way in. They looked like off duty cops or Marines that had stacked hajis like cordwood in Iraq. The other problem was that the security staff outnumbered us about three to one. Too bad the band and their roadies did not come out to the strip club that night.

My Spidey-senses were telling me this was not going to end well. If a fight erupted, I would have felt obligated to jump in and make sure these guys got out safe since it was my idea to go to the strip club. I figured, I should just get out of there before any ruckus takes place, so I did not have to honor said obligation. I told my two new friends that my wife kept lighting up my phone, and I had to go call her. I walked calmly past the brutes manning the door. Now, this club keeps one security guy in the parking lot, and I could hear some chatter on his radio as I was almost to my car. As I peeled out of the parking lot, I saw him jogging inside. I am not sure what ever happened to the two guys I met at the concert that night. I hope they weren't beat like a bass drum.