Quote:
Originally posted by NotFromHere
You frequent a much more casual place. The only male stripper place I was dragged to was in the same city where you cannot drink outdoors in public. So the strippers were 10 feet away behind a velvet rope and busloads of drunk women had to throw "tokens" into his g-string. NO CONTACT. Which I suppose is a good thing now that you mention it. For both sides. I can imagine busloads of drunk women can get a little grabby.
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I have seen male strippers exactly twice.
First time was in a non-discript mid-western city at the local Chippendales franchise or whatever. There was no touching there, though, god help them, a large number of women in the audience seemed to want to touch. I've done my best to block all memories of that night out, but I still have an adverse reaction to bachelorette parties screaming and giggling their way through my neighborhood watering hole, so I'm not sure I've managed to completely erase it from memory. I believe there were a managerie of your stereotypical male stripper uniforms - policeman, fireman, etc.
Second time was at someone's house for a bachelorette party. The bride-to-be was my sister-in-law at the time and she wanted me to have to endure the lapdance type thing right along with her. Probably because I was the only one acting mortified by the stripper and his tiny green sparkly g-string. He was close enough for me to see his leg acne, and that is just too close for me, thank you.
I now prescreen "ladies night out" adventures to make sure there aren't any expectations that I will have to be around skanky g-stringed men. Luckily the type of women who like that sort of thing don't typically run in my circles anymore. Or I don't run in theirs.