ou know, I end up at...

ou know, I end up at a lot of places. Some of them are seedy. Some of them are Sassy. I think you know which one this is.

I'm not the world's biggest fan of strip joints. My feminism has a tendency to flare up a bit when considering the political implications of non-unionized sex work. Furthermore, a lot of them are just sad to behold: Bored women stroll around a pole or mimic fellatio for abysmal tips from the fixed-and-dilated types sitting, alone, at the tip rail. You just know everyone's going home feeling dirty or violated or both.

But you know what? This place is actually pretty cool. The dancers were vivacious (yes, I can use the word vivacious if I want to, I don't care what you think) and actually danced. The crowd was jovial (yes, I can say jovial if I want to) and seemed to be there to have a good time. I didn't feel unsafe. Then again, it was the end of the night. I probably would have felt safe picking a fight with a linebacker or a Mack truck. AHEM.