Pole Position

I have a love/hate relationship with strip clubs. I love the idea and love naked women, but every few minutes, the illusion falls apart for me and I find myself battling little bouts of shame. These episodes never last for too long, just appear at annoyingly irregular intervals.

Some guys from the paper decided to go to the local topless bar here in Brunswick last night after work. There was, no bullshit, a coupon in the paper for not only free entry into the "Red Carpet Lounge," but for a free drink as well. So three guys decided to hit the joint after work, and they figured it wasn't a good time unless The Icon was there.

First, a note about the "Red Carpet Lounge." It is not known for it's quality, nor is it known for it's beautiful women. It's located on a little side street in downtown Brunswick and if you're not looking for it, chances are, you'll never notice it. I had never been inside, nor had I ever had the inclination to go inside. It's just a small, dirty little place, and from what I had heard, "dirt leg" was one of the nicest ways to describe the girls there.

Well, the girls weren't that bad, but at 5:00 in the afternoon, they weren't that enthusiastic either. Oh, and by girls, I mean two, both no older than 21. But every once in a while, when the mood struck them they would head to the stage, twirl around the pole and fish for a couple of bucks. But, since the four Brunswick News employees were the only ones there, the ladies weren't (initially) getting that much.

I played a game of pool with one of my comrades, then it was decided that we should at least make the strippers feel like their weren't shadow stripping. So we sat down front and center before the small stage. The girls, both of them, were what I like to call trailer park hot. In a very trashy way, they have a great deal of sex appeal, but take off the pole and out of the strip club, and they ain't so hot anymore.

I'm always okay at a strip club until the stripper makes eye contact. Other guys get off on this. When the stripper makes eye contact with them, they get this real serious look on their face, like they're telepathically telling the stripper to fuck them. I get a different look on my face: The awkward smile. It's like I'm trying to telepathically communicate too, only I'm saying "Hey, look, I'm different than these other perverts. I'm interested in who you are." I get embarrassed. I think of myself as a very progressive guy. I'm a good liberal, and think that everyone should be treated equal. But I'm also not gay. I like naked women. I like to watch naked women. I just feel bad sometimes for being there.

But then it goes away. She's off trying to earn some formula money from the guy next to me, and I'm looking at boobies.