I had a “this is my life” moment this past weekend. I worked, teaching a 6pm Fellatio 101 party and since I had no 9pm party scheduled, I had plans to meet up with a friend for a quiet night in at her house. It was fun party (my job is always fun) but nothing out of the ordinary until I was packing up to leave.
Hostess: Where you heading after this?
Me: I’m meeting a friend in Philly.
Hostess: That’s where we’re going- you should come with us! We have stretch Hummer limo and we can give you a ride!
I figured that sounded like fun and would just tell my friend to meet us at the bar the limo was dropping us off at.
Me: Sounds great! What bar are we going to?
Hostess: (whispering) It’s a surprise. We’re going to The Cave.
Me: The male strip club? I thought that place was closed.
Hostess: Apparently not…
I was psyched! My grandmother always talked about taking me The Cave (yes… my grandmother…). But then I realized I was in jeans and sandals and everyone else was in clubbing attire.
Me: Well, I’d love to but I’m not really dressed for a night like this.
Hostess: Not a problem! The limo driver won’t be here for 20 minutes- that’s plenty of time!
And just like that, one person was fitting me in her spare sexy strapless cocktail dress, another person was finding me a pair of stilettos, while a third, a professional makeup artist, was doing my face. Twenty minutes later I’m sitting in a back of a limo all dolled up, getting toasted with pink champagne on the way to a male strip club. This is my life.
It was an amazing night! We stopped at 6 or 7 different bars and on the drive in between, we had great conversation in the limo and I really got to know these women. I hope I’ve made some new flients!
The strip club was… interesting. The sexologist in me was just taking in all the gender and sexuality things at play. First, it was dead- maybe only about 75 people in the whole club. That would never be the case at a female strip club unless it was 2pm on a Tuesday or something. Second, EVERY single person there was there for a bachelorette party. It’s like one of those things that women do once in their life for a bachelorette party just because it’s the thing to do, they take pictures, and they’re done. They don’t do it as a regular form of entertainment, as is the case with female strip clubs. And probably the most stark difference I noticed is the “fantasy” aspect.
What I mean is that my understanding of female strip clubs is that the goal is to make the client feel like the experience is real, the stripper is attainable, and that she really wants him. It is the opposite in the male strip club. It’s completely phony and every step of the way, he’s whispering in your ear “I’m going to run my hands down your hips now, is that ok?”, “Are you ok with this?”, “I’m going to touch your thighs, but don’t worry, it’s all just pretend”, etc.
I texted Tyler right away and told him he NEEDS to get a job here. He would be a great male stripper. He has the body for it and I’ve seen him give complimentary lap dances to birthday girls… I’ve been working on him about it ever since.
Anyway… what a night!
Contact sexologist Jill McDevitt: