You ever think to yourself... "You know what, maybe I actually have a problem"

Being excited by sexy, naked women attempting to seduce (or at least pretending to) causes your body to produce oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine. These are the same hormones produced by nicotine, opium, and other addictive substances.

In short, yes, it can cause an addiction.

All. The. Time. Do I care? Not really. I am generally more guilted by the dollars spent than the actual addiction itself.

when i discovered this one club had a nice roster of russian girls during the 90's. wait at home until 9pm. take 2-3 subways. then walk through a questionable area that's nothing but empty streets and warehouses and underneath through a major highway overpass while it's pouring heavy rain. arrive at 11pm. get my rocks off, leave and be lucky to get back home 3 hours later.

mongering, nicotine, coffee and gambling are just some serious badass addictions. regrets? no doubt the nicotine and yeah gambling - that depends on what i was gambling on.. coffee no. mongering absolutely none. if anything the biggest regret was not getting more lappers from certain faves and the ones who left the clubs before i had a chance to take them for a spin or two.

"You ever think to yourself... "You know what, maybe I actually have a problem" "

Yes. The problem is I need more money and time to pursue this degen behavior.

I guess there are worse things you could be addicted to.

The idea of an addiction has not crossed my mind. Until now. Thanks Muddy. lol. But if this hobby is wrong I don’t want to be right.

Like any behavior, if clubbing is affecting other aspects of one’s real life, then it’s time to re-evaluate.

I’m lucky money wise that I am comfortable. If someone is foregoing other financial responsibilities so they can club, that’s a problem.

YOLO...but yes. Everyone on the planet is a work in progress.

When you think you're spending too much money relative to what you're getting out of it, find a new club or pull back. When you're excited about it, do it more.

Not rocket science.

I've not really given it much thought previously. But even considering it now, no not really. I don't suffer any negative effects associated with addiction. I don't have any physical withdrawal symptoms when I'm away from the club for a few months. It's not like I start getting all sketched out & aggro or twitch & puke if I don't go. I'm healthy financially. I'm not missing out on things with family and friends.

If I were to stop going to clubs, I'd probably just replace it with something else equally as expensive and time consuming, and probably as equally as trivial. And given peoples propensity to take offense to just about anything, I'm sure there would be some segment of the population who were adamantly against whatever I chose to do.

And I just gotta say, the idea that anything that causes the release of those hormones could cause is stupid. It's probably not untrue that a strip club visit causes them, and there is the potential for addiction. But, those hormones are basically what makes you happy. Almost anything good for you is going to release them. Worrying about doing too much of those things on the basis that they could cause addiction seems like a sure fire way to live a miserable life. The positive side isn't what should cause concern, it's the negatives that are associated with addiction.

...could cause addiction...

I am not addicted to strip clubs... I'm addicted to pussy.

Strip clubs are just an efficient delivery system.

Every waking minute, but I still go, which I suppose is an obvious indication of it being an addiction.

Everyone needs an outlet for stress relief. Some choose mainstream outlets. For others, it's a dark vice such as strip clubbing.

I find myself going more and lessening my standards when I'm on a work trip (which is often), unfortunately. However, when I'm in my home city, maybe because mileage is so terrible, generally, I don't feel need to go club that often.

Quitting is for quitters!

When I was younger and regularly attending, I was also regularly feeling guilty about attending. Now that I am older, I look back and simply think, "I shouldn't have felt so guilty." Nicotine and alcohol have more detrimental effects. I like pussy. I don't think I'm "addicted" any more than I am addicted to food, air, water, shelter, clothing. Not addicted, though I do use them all regularly, because I entered this world as a being who is made up of mammalian male heterosexual genetics.

I suppose that if I had all that money back, I could have invested it at a decent rate and made a healthy return. The thing is, that wasn't guaranteed at the time and I suspect I would simply have frittered it away in other non-investment pursuits like restaurant dining or getting fancier cars. Over the course of my mongering career, indulging a regular mongering and strip-clubbing "habit" since the late 1980s, I suspect I haven't spent enough to make or break me. I didn't spend any money on children or wives during that time, so perhaps this is my replacement expenditure. How much did it all add up to? Maybe $100,000.oo? $200? I could do the math I suppose ...

My biggest regrets are, as also suggested by @rattdog, not getting more from particular girls. The ones that got away, either because I was a bit stand-offish at the time, or because I'd just been with someone else, or because I foolishly told myself to wait for a while, or whatever other reason. I can picture some of them quite specifically, from as long ago as twenty years, and I still say to myself "drat! shoulda coulda woulda" about them.

Let's see now.

So. The youthful-looking one, who actually was wiser and older than her appearance, but with a cute round face and a pixie haircut, recently in from (so she said) Lithuania, at a Russians-mostly club North of Toronto named Fantasia where there were no rules. Firm body, youthful but curvy, small breasts, firm high ass. We chatted so many times over several visits to the club, but I never ever took her back to a booth. Why oh why not? I don't know what my excuse was.

Or. The stunningly curvaceous Cubana who was at the side-stage right when I first walked in to Diamond Dolls Pompano on my first visit ever to that club. Swarthy, naturally well titted, nipples jutting through a negligee, and the breasts rose and fell still firm without sag, her skin swarthy, with smooth shiny black hair and matching eyes, but stupid me! I thought it had to be a loss-leader, she was at the front, too good to be true, I hadn't scoped the joint yet.

Or. The real ballerina in Texas. Full high standing splits, one leg straight below her with the other leg straight above her, knee to her face, she appeared eight feet tall in her platforms, and she all but explained that this is how she would lean into my cock by means of that split position, so she said breathily while gently kissing my ear and nibbling my lower lip on the main floor. Her price was reasonable but I didn't have cash on me, hadn't brought my ATM card, would have had to use club funny-money on a credit card so I let the big head do the thinking and turned her down. Pretty face, pert near-flat breasts, smattering of abs, pale almost lily-white skin with downy peach-fuzz (anorexic?) along the small of her back. I should have let the little head do the thinking.

Or. Late late late one night in (IIRC?) Houston, a dancer asked me for a ride home. Sweet bashful African-American young lady, new to dancing, didn't want to spend money on a cab and I was going her way back to my hotel. She was sweaty from stage exertion, with droplets on her temples. We got to her apartment high-rise and I didn't even blink, just let her out of the car. Doh. Must have been in a stupor. I can still see her quizzical facial expression but she didn't actually speak of anything, just walked away ... forever.

Or. A favorite at my local, who always got along so well with me that she would engage in more-than-allowed in any of the private booths, all without prompting, all without extra price. She'd just say "I don't know why I'm so into it with you, but it's great" and I could see that she was flushed and hot with exertion and delight. (Or she's a great actress, I don't care which.) Regularly hinted at OTC opportunities. Regularly I missed the hints. Eventually she stopped dancing, haven't seen her for about a decade now, though I still hope when I go back to the same club. I have saved the website pictures of her, which are no longer up on the internet but are available forever on my PL hard drive.

As I said recently (and it got good response so now I'm quoting myself in my limited repertoire because that's what PLs do) "You young kids, don't neglect your poundage opportunities, you never know when you won't have any more."

I've had this existential dread of wondering if I'm "addicted" a few times.

I wrote about this in a recent review of Detroit clubs. I was in Detroit, making a day trip to Flight Club. The hotel checkout time was 11 AM. Flight didn't open until 1 PM, and to make things worse, no dancers showed up until 2 PM.

That gave me 3 solid hours with nothing to do but drink coffee (then beer at the bar) and to ponder questions like this one. My willingness to put up with this major inconvenience made me wonder if my behavior was becoming "compulsive".

At the end of the day, I had an amazing rendezvous with a gorgeous raven haired dancer who made the trip totally worthwhile, and I flew home that evening with no regrets, eager to come back, but not with that compulsive feeling either.

Though the thought does cross my mind on occasion, I think the answer is no. And I agree with @bookguy... "don't neglect your poundage opportunities, you never know when you won't have any more"

I think you really have to unpack what the term addiction means. Dopamine triggers are a product of our natural systems that encourage basic life functiions. It isnt just sex drugs and rock and roll, it is eating and breathing...

The term addiction refers to when the pursuit becomes destructive. Do you neglect family to be a monger, do you rob bodegos or use violence to support the habit? Do you run up credit cards beyond responsible levels? Do ypu start to believe strippers might actually love you?

Just keep a grip on reality. What happens in a strip club is a performance. Enjoy it in the moment as if it was real, but remember after that it is jist a service.
Addi

I don't have a problem as long as I still have the available cash to spend.

problems. plural

Considering I sometimes go for months without going and am really picky with my strippers, no problem here.

Other than strippers, sex, drugs, alcohol and gambling I have no problems.

Whenever I think I might have a problem I just come here and say “there but for the grace of god”