Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Embarrassed BY professionals? Maybe.

Just as a side note on the embarrassment post made two posts earlier:

Yes, I really did fart on that guy’s neck. It was the back of his neck. He was sitting down at the head of a large table, in a small room, and I had to squeeze by between him and a large wooden buffet/hutch. The room was empty when I had first passed through it to get to the restroom, but when I exited the toilet, a fraternity had arrived for some sort of (Klan?) meeting or beer event. The room was full, but it was my only path to get out from the restrooms. I decided to face the hutch while passing him, thereby rubbing my bum along the back of his chair. The tight space between caused me to pull in breath, and as a result my inner air-pressure spiked up and released itself by way of my ass. On to the back of the guy’s neck. It was audible, and it certainly was relieving, but I initially fancied that the frat bro did not register the hit. There was a-lot of noise in that room, so I assumed that my blast would have been muffled by all the talk of date-rape trials and gay-bashing plans. But my friend was trailing me, and just as he passed through my fumes, he yelped “damn man, did you just fart on that dude!?”

At which point, I began to haul ass down the stairs, busted out the front door, and hit the parking lot at a high huff. There was a-lot of yelling involved. Maybe even some searchlights and a gauntlet of barbed wire. It was like a jailbreak. But they would have skipped the prison time and gone straight for a hangin’ I reckon. I got away clean, but that dude’s red neck did not.

Speaking of passing gas in public, I am reminded of one of my myriad of reasons for not liking “gentlemen clubs”. It will take me a minute to come full-circle on that transition (how “gas” and “gentlemen clubs” are related), so sit tight.

Ta-ta bars are a complete waste of money. Sure, some dudes swear by them, and just as I see religion: not my thing, but that’s fine by me (clubs are comparable to church in most respects: costs money, creates family rifts, can ruin a good weekend, the music sucks, and there is a-lot of sitting involved). They are also highly misunderstood by those who do not go. It is easy to assume that within those windowless walls there is free sex in every nook, and it is a big ol’ orgy for high-powered salesmen and square-jawed politicians. But this is not so. In fact, the idea that there is sex everywhere is just plain stupid. It is the “promise” of sex that sells. NOT the sex itself.

Here’s why there is no sex, by example: two guys walk into a strip club, both with $400. Guy 1 sits down and immediately starts having sex with strange women. Guy 2 sits down nearby and for 30 minutes, no one pays a single bit of goddamn attention to him, but there are provocatively dressed women parading themselves past him in a teasing fashion. After thirty minutes is up, a woman walks over to Guy 2 and asks if he “would like some company”. Guy 2 is practically frothing at the mouth, and desperate for some kind of attention, so he says “sure, that’d be great”. She sits down and immediately orders herself a drink. She makes small talk, and then asks Guy 2 some questions to ensure that he has cash. He does, and he practically tells her how much he has. Now she decides how she must spend her time. At $20 every 4-minute song, she calculates that his cash will last him about an hour and a half. She plans to bleed him dry, and force all her drinks on to his tab, which will have to be settled by his credit card. Are you feeling the sex for Guy 2 yet? No? No surprise. Guy 2, drawn in by the “promise” of some sort of experience blinks his eyes, and an hour and a half has passed. She stands up immediately after the end of some shitty Motley Crue song, puts her gear back on, and says “okay sugar, I need to take care of things. I had a really great time with you tonight, but I gotta go.” She then slyly gives Guy 2 a verbal tab of $400 for 1.5 hours worth of “work”, half of which was spent just sitting on his lap talking about her three-year old boy or her plans to attend med school. Guy 1 got his rocks off within the first 5 minutes, would have paid the going rate for such activities (less than $100 I would guess) and split, leaving a mess for someone to clean and a chick that will need some clinic work done on a regular basis (overhead for owner of club).

Which do you think has a bar tab in excess of $200? Who do you think left broke? Who do you think had an enormous case of blue ball, but will not remember that part of the experience when he considers dropping into the establishment in the future? Are you getting it yet? Do you understand now? Is it not completely fucking obvious where the real business is? Can we just go ahead and say that men going to strip clubs is as useless and pointless as women getting a full makeover now? That is to say: expensive, harmless, time-consuming, extravagant, and completely unnecessary.

Enough rant, on to gas story.

So, back in my hazier years, I was at a little strip club in Round Rock called Joy’s. It was a crap hole that had a dick-dancer joint next door called Bad Boys. We knew some of the girls who worked there, so we went every now and again for kicks. One night, while there, I went up to get a dollar dance. For those who do not know, there are two types of dances offered in most strip clubs: The lap/table dance: $20 per song, and the dollar/stage dance: $1 for 15 seconds of devoted attention from on-stage dancer to dudes standing along the edge of the stage. So, I was standing at the edge of the stage, drunk off my ass, waiting for the girl to wander over to me for my 15 seconds. She wandered over, smiled, turned around and got on all fours. Sounds hot, right? Wrong. Keep in mind, while on the stage she is a good three-feet above you. That makes her ass at eye level. You see nothing but butt. No female form really, no curves and supple breasts. No “come hither” stare or gymnastics. Just ass. As if you were hiding in a toilet, just to see butt or something. In all cultures, this is considered foul mockery, and quite rude. Basically, she mooned me, at VERY close range, for 15 seconds. We called this the “damned-ass dance”, and it really sucked to get one, even for a measly dollar. To top off the d.a.d.: while she was thrusting her pimply g-stringed butt in my face, I heard her squeeze a few poots out, in rhythm with the C+C Music Factory bullshit that was playing. Yes, she mooned me, farted in my face, and then had the nerve to request payment with her back still to me, by pulling up the string on her g-string for me to slide the bill underneath.

That must have been karma getting me back for that frat dude’s neck.

Damn you baby powder!


dungsta said...

You know that one time i took you to a ta-ta bar was like window shopping for Kobe Bryant's wife after he got busted. I didn't really throw down cause i mistook you for one of my buddys with scrupels....had i known you actually believed the rules you just mentioned existed i would have been more than happy to introduce you the the world of the real "gentlemen's club". Son, you have no idea, there is tons of sex in the tata club and if i walked into the rose right now i bet you 100 bucks that by the end of the night that we'd both get laid and i wouldn't have to tell the girls nothing. We'd get a vip booth for free. the bartender would buy us a round of drinks. the manager's would physically carry the girls to our table. and all those stories that people don't believe would come true, ask carlos, oscar, sean, oscar's old roomate john, Scott, or my waitress. stop promulgating anti-ta ta bar nonsense. word is four letters baby.

shout out to theresa & raven (there is always a raven)

Truecraig said...

Ramdung, you win the Pointless-Rant-of-the-Year Award! I have held it for YEARS now, but you have taken my crown and scepter. But, I am afraid I must declare... here is why your comment-flame-rant makes no sense:

1. Paying women for sex is possible ANYWHERE in the world. I never said it was forbidden in a ta-ta spot. The point I MADE (which magically escaped your seething eyes) was that it is not just “thrown around” at a ta-ta bar. It costs money. More than most people think. Much more than a crack whore’s wage (how many $1,000s would you throw down before getting yourself some puss-for-hire? How many limo rides does it take again? Please refresh my memory).

2. You called me “son”, which makes you come across as a pompous jackass, which I know for a fact you are not. It is akin to fronting, but in the wrong direction, and it is beneath you.

3. I have spent plenty of time in ta-ta bars all across this great nation, so don’t think that your “intimate” knowledge of ONE cash-hungry establishment makes you an expert on the subject at ANY level.

4. You cannot spell scruples, buddies, or roommate. Normally, this would not bother me, as I am a super shitty speller. But the least you could do in a flame-post is edit your scribble-scrabble. A shred of respect would be nice.

5. You called out our friends’ names, as if they might be interested in having everyone know their personal business, yet you use the moniker Dungsta (a derivative of a nickname, not even your REAL nickname!? Shameless! I love it!).

6. You already know that I have nothing against the existence of strip clubs. To say that I am “promulgating” (nice SAT word, by the way) “anti-ta-ta bar nonsense” is nonsense in itself. Again, your defensive stance caused you to miss the point of my post entirely: Don’t hate on titty bars because you think of them as cheap whorehouses – quite the opposite: if you want to hate them for anything, hate them for their relatively low value proposition and the girls that blow ass-dirt in your grill. And I have experience to back up that position.

Is the point any clearer yet? Let a brutha know when you’re ready to play nice.

wm alfred rose said...

on my sixteenth birthday i went to a strip club in ciudad juarez, across the border from el paso. the place was topless only, but you could fuck them in the back. buddies of mine, as a birthday gift, put in a few dineros for a clean puta, one with blond hair and pink nipples. but when i went to the back to meet her, a bunch of old dirty fuckers were standing in a circle with beers. the puta appeared, stood inside our circle, placed a dish on the floor, squatted, then took a shit. what the fuck? when i went back to my buddies they were laughing their asses off, pointing at me. assholes. they got me good.

carmenjayne said...

I remember before you left for NY, when we went to Sugar's. That was probably the last time I went to one of those clubs, and the whole experience rests greasily in my brain. T&A clubs serve a purpose in our society for those who need them, but it's nice to know that there are men besides my father who recognize them for what they are. And my father is one of the most sexed up people I know, if that says anything. You're awesome Craig.

Truecraig said...

Drunken Boat, that is the best gift I have ever heard given between men. No doubt about it. I am a little familiar with Juarez, and that sounds par for the course. But I wonder, how often would that occur in a day? I mean, just HOW MUCH cheese had to be eaten, followed by gallons of bran? Carmen, your support is much appreciated (I know my lack of affection for ta-ta bars is not a popular vote amongst my own ranks, so I need the support where I can get it!).

firedancerdancin said...

"There was a-lot of noise in that room, so I assumed that my blast would have been muffled by all the talk of date-rape trials and gay-bashing plans."
I don't even know you and I love you. Seriously, guy. You make me cry, I laugh so hard. Your friends are pretty damn funny too.

Anonymous said...

Ta-ta's are great!!! But, pay to play? hmmmmm. I will venture into an establishment in good sport to have laughs and liquor among friends. however I will pass on "want company?" line. My friend, you are not alone.

dungsta said...

1. i didn't realize i was fronting.

2. I didn't mind mentioning my buddies names and leaving my nickname because;

a) i didn't think thier was anything shamefull about paying for sex.

b) more people know me by my nickname (in general)and the whole experience of being at a party at Sean's where 12 other Seans/shawn's/shaun's showed up leaves me stupified as to how to make myself most easily distinguished.

c)while im appreciative of any amusement i may cause; the use of the bastardized version of my nickname is as most people would agree the usual transgression/progression of an inside joke that mutates over the years, you can tell how long its been since ive seen you by which permutation of my nickname your using.

3)As for sex in an actual titty bar, yes ive rented limo's ive thrown wads of cash in the air, ive paid people's rent, ive paid for many a boob job, but ive never recieved reciprocation because of these acts. Most people don't know but ive dated three women that i met in a titty bar. One you may remember as the waitress who took care of us the night me, you, and oscar went. One is now presently a waitress at Rick's in houston, and one was an actual dancer. I never once got any "play", or "play" that i ever took seriously, whilst in a spending mode. i don't talk about this because im not interested in blabbing about my otherwise puritan sex life. I was hoping that inuendo would have been enough to get my point across.

4) i object to your ascertion that i am not an asshole. I think you should re-evaluate that perception, but to each his own.

5)even if i proof read my entries, i wouldn't be able to spell simple words nor notice their mispellings. Remember, clarity is not my strongest point, whether it be spelling or coherence. sorry.

6)as for the actual topic of the crux of your arguement. i did not understand, and yes i missed the point; but seriously, did you expect me too? have i ever made any sense? usually i do not make sense and am very much attached to exaggeration and shit talkin. this being the case, i guess you should ask yourself why you took me so seriously. i don't even take myself seriously, why should you be any different?

7)as for calling you son. you are correct that those are fronting words and i apologize. but when have i ever fronted on anyone (excluding those ive worked with and oscar<- who usually deserves it)??? what makes you think i would actually front on you? have i ever given you reason to think that i would or that i was capable?

8)we've already chatted on the phone and cleared things the time i hadn't read your comment. While i applaud your ability to chew through the fat (calling me on my shit) i really wished you would have mentioned some of the comments that you posted here so we could have actually talked this through. This all seems like a massive misunderstanding.


Sean said...

dung, craig, guys, you're both blowing dirt right past eachother. this conversation would NEVER have taken place between you two in person, and I know you'll agree when you think about it.

now kiss and make up.

firedancerdancin said...

wow! blog drama! :-)
If y'all are gonna kiss and make nice, I think the best venue would be a titty bar. Full circle, ya know?

Truecraig said...

Let's not get carried away here!

It is absolutely true that this conversation would never have ocurred between us in person. This is what happens when comments go awry, but that is the nature of the thing. Bygones.

There was never any ill-will on either side, just a bit of a joust, and I have no doubt that I will be buying Ramdung (Dungsta, Ramshit) a beer over xmas. Word to that. May the ta-ta bars' lights shine bright for all who seek them.

dungsta said...

now that things are copesthetic between craig and myself, i would like to make one thing clear. I love women dearly. This may sound like absolute b.s. but my reasons for endulging in ta-ta bars has less to do with the sultry side of things and more to do with my love of women. im not going to use (though i realize that i am) Craigs blog to explain myself but if you only know me from my drunkard cameos in austin and would like to know the full story, gestalt ramdung if you will, then i suggest you read; . peace.

Jonnie 7-11 said...

I've never walked out of a ta-ta bar feeling like I got my money's worth.

good gone bad said...

I must say that I am so sorry if you were not able to get grrrreat tiger sex at the naked lady joint. I used to work at a few, myself, just to take advantage of the horney, party, drug-induced kick ass time that I would have. It is all a mind fu*k and the problems only occur if one of these three things happen:
the money runs out
the drugs run out
you or the dancer leaves.
Granted, the suit might be a weirdo that wants to feel special because of his arrogance toward the environment, but this is a cut-throat situation!
He or she that can supply....will.
What ever your bringing, must be choice!
Just whatever keeps everyone smiling. That's the way to make money! I remember being like a tour guide to the crazy people that think that they "shouldn't be spending" or "think they need to play it safe." Man, Jim Morrison had it right--"this place has everything, come on, i'll show you!"
But, uh, I want to add a disclaimer... I was a waitress; gay, loved money, loved the lights and still love motley crew (well,love is a big word), and let's face it-- if all you get is drunk, at least you can laugh at the girls that fall of the stage from time to time.

Brugz said...

Your post brings up an interesting point of psychology. If given the choice between laying down a hundred dollars for straight-forward sex or a multiple of that amount to 'live the fantasy' apparently many are choosing the fantasy.

I would imagine that some reasons for this is that it is safer and more socially acceptable. However, it is not possible to ignore the pervasiveness or permanance of these clubs.

You are saying that it is a bad value prop but many a man's wallet has decided (and is continuing to decide) that living in the land of prancing boobies is worth the higher price point to them. It indicates that men place more value on the attention of a beautiful woman than the physical act alone.

There are some outstanding questions that have to be asked in order to validate the theory:
1. I wonder when the last time any of the same guys spent $400 on their last date (or wanted to). The whole thing smacks as escapism to me.
2. My comment assumes that this is an exchange of dollars for dances. Would these same individuals (not others in general) pay for sex with anyone? Would they pay for sex with the women they encounter in the club? And if so, what would they pay for it? (Trying to see if the fantasy or act is more important)

I hope this raises the conversation from "don't like or like" them to explore the issue of "since it is a bad value proposition, why does it happen"?

Comments (and rants) welcome.

Truecraig said...

This is Craig.

Fuck me. Blogger is all fucked up and won't let me sign in to put comments on ANY GODDAMNED BLOG. Including my own.

Brooks – It is a bad value proposition to ME. “Bad” is a relative term. Some Japanese men see fit to import poontang from California at $10k per pop. I find this to be a “bad” investment. They, obviously, see it as some sort of deal. To each: their own.

On the issue of escapism, I agree completely. That is exactly what it is, and even there, a good porn flick or novel would be significantly cheaper. But, certain individuals have a preference for it, and feel that $400 for a strange and scantily clad woman’s attention for two hours = quite the bargain.

As for whether or it is the act or the fantasy is more important, I believe that would depend on the individual. I think we can all agree that if you are in the ta-ta bar to begin with, then the act is definitely important. But MORE important than the “hey-man,-she-really-digs-me-for-ME!” fantasy? Hell if I know. I never ventured into any of that territory. I will post my personal intentions in another entry.