article comment
14 years ago
I come at it from a different angle. For years I tried to tell my wife that it was just good clean fun, all illusion. Sure, the girls were nearly naked, but it isn't what you have heard, that it is a front for prostitution. I told her that you would get just as far with a stripper as if you walked up to the stage during the curtain call at the community playhouse and whispered into the ear of the leading lady that you wanted to get together with her. I wasn't sure which one would slap you. I honestly felt that way. For years, any time I nibbled around the edges like that I was met with a complete and abrupt rejection. And most of them time, all I had in mind was a cup of coffee or breakfast at Denny's. Honestly.
But now, just in the last 5 years, or maybe because I'm just five years older with more gray hair showing, there have been more possibilities opening up to me. It could be that I'm being taken for a ride in a more sophisticated way now. But I can't honestly say that strippers flatly do not engage in other activities. And I don't know if it is because we live in 2011 or if it because I'm now middle-aged.
article comment
14 years ago
DougS, I appreciate the effort that went into this. It is easy for the wanker types out there with no girlfriends or disinterested wives to minimize this, but for those of us that have absolutely no room for error this article is helpful. Made the mistake one time of giving a stripper my work phone and she would call and see if she could stop by so that I could give her a little money, just because she thought I was a nice guy, I guess. Her kids would be in the background, saying "Just ask him for money, mama!" Yeesh.
I know it sounds too much like Mission Impossible stuff, but every trick is appreciated. A lot of dancers seem to be better attuned to the dangers and are doing things like not wearing lipstick or perfume or glitter. Management hasn't a clue, however. Many times I have driven down the highway with all the windows rolled down to try and blow that cigareete smoke and funky smell out of my pores and hair. A quick stop at the mega-gas station to change into clean clothes and to do a thorough wipe-down with wet paper towels (hair again, and skin, neck, ears, hands and arms--even though you may have worn a long-sleeved shirt). If you can come up with a good excuse for showering before jumping into bed with your wife, that is even safer. Don't forget to take a warm wash cloth and scrub around your chin, cheeks, lips, and nose for that persistent pussy juice smell that seems to linger and linger.
I still break out in a cold sweat thinking about a stray loose hair, a blonde, red, or black one--since my wife is a brunette. A hair clinging to the passenger seat headrest. A smelly shirt that I dropped in the trunk. A crazy dancer calling my cell phone. The joopz tip looks like a winner.