Strip clubs are like baseball games....

Strip clubs are like baseball games. Great in theory but expensive and boring in actuality. I take an annual pilgrimage to both just to remind myself of why I do not partake of either pastime more often. But once in a while, you luck out. Maybe the Mariners get a walk-off homer from Justin Smoak that makes that c-note you dropped on parking, beer and the ticket worth it for a change. Or perhaps you bump into the strip club equivalent of the walk-off homer: the high mileage stripper.

I encountered such a delectable creature in the wee small hours this Thursday morning at Deja Vu. After turning down two girls, I took a chance on a blonde with an apple bottom. I didn't expect much but I thought, hey, at least she's hot.

I'm a Midwestern boy and back east our strippers have us well-trained to keep our hands at our sides at all times. We're like hen-pecked husbands who know better than to question our wives about how exactly they managed to spend $200 on fabric at Jo-Ann's. Those are the rules and we abide by them.