Friday, September 29, 2006

Sunday Scribblings: Skin

Well, boys and girls, isn't this an interesting topic for a Sunday Scribbling???

The 'chick has considered her options for the post and her mind wandered from a medical discourse discussing the properties of skin to a cosmetic commentary discussing the care and maintenance of skin to a self-confidence type entry discussing "love the skin you're in" but all of these were rejected for sex.

Y'all knew that was where this was going, didn't you?

The 'chick is going to discuss the industry of skin and the profits of said industry.


In her past, the 'chick has visited several, ahem, adult establishments. Always as part of a group and not as a voyeur or for personal gratification.

The first time the 'chick set foot in a strip club, she was with a boyfriend who was applying for a job as a bartender. The 'chick is not going to discuss her feelings on this endeavor, rather she is going to discuss her impressions of the experience.

Roadchick was young at the time and not nearly as jaded as she is now. She had seen such things in movies but in her sheltered existence, she had never actually been to a club. It was dimly lit, although not too dark and there were little groupings of tables and chairs surrounding the stage area. The bar was located at the back of the room. Roadchick and Yucky Boy made their way to the bar and he began filling out an application. While he was doing that, the 'chick looked around to see what there was to see. A few girls made their way to the stage and did their dance numbers, collecting dollars from the few men scattered about. No one was particularly enthusiastic about any part of the process, girls or men. That made the 'chick wonder - then why bother???

As the 'chick sat there, waiting patiently, a number of the girls approached the bar and were talking to the 'chick. Was she there to apply? Did she want to dance? Wasn't she just the prettiest thing? And what pretty hair. She would be so popular. Did she want to come backstage and look around? Had she danced before? The 'chick was astounded by all the attention. The men in the place were also astounded that all the girls were more interested in chatting to the 'chick than chatting to them and possibly earning dollars. The 'chick came to the conclusion that at least she was a novel experience - the men were all the same.

The 'chick also attended a "dance" performance of Florida's Finest - a male review, with her sister-in-law. A gaggle of screeching, giggling women waving money and acting like fools. The 'chick was not included in the gaggle since she was using her dollars to buy drinks - a much more sensible purchase and much better value for the money. It was fun, as those things go, but not so much fun that the 'chick wished to return anytime soon. To cap the evening off, several of the dancers gave sister-in-law their phone numbers. That made the 'chick laugh when she thought about how many of those women present were writing phone numbers on the dollars they were stuffing down g-strings.

The last time the 'chick attended a strip club, it was at the tail end of a bachelorette party for Best Friend. The group of women met up with the bachelor party men for the groom at a Nashville club. Roadchick wound up sitting next to a drunken man of non-American origin who spoke no English. As the 'chick didn't speak his language either, she was having a hard time telling him to take a long walk off a short pier and if he didn't keep his hands to himself, she was going to kill him and dump the body in the lake. It took Best Friend's husband-to-be to finally get the guy to back off and go 'way.

At this club, the 'chick was older and a little more philosophical about the experience. She wondered if the girls' mamas knew what their little precious darlings were doing to earn pocket money (what pockets???) while away at that prestigious Ivy League university. And, she was impressed at the athleticism it must take to hang upside down from a pole with only one leg hooked around it. And she has never seen so much silicone in one place in her life. Rightside up, upside down, it didn't matter. Honey, those boobs did NOT move. Impressive.

There was a room toward the back and the crowd could see through the doorway. This was the Lap Dance Room. Anyone who paid for a lap dance went back there with the dancer of their choice and was seated in a recliner. The 'chick watched for a few minutes. She could only see the back of the man's head but completely see the dancer's face. She was moving, dancing away, but by the expression on her face, she was making out a grocery list or wondering if she turned the iron off before she left home. It was a good thing the man could NOT see that or else he probably would've asked for his money back.

While there, the 'chick needed to have a pee. (Well, she did, and what other choice did she have???) In her other two experiences, she did not ever visit the facilities so she was unprepared when she entered the restroom here. There was ONE toilet. With a tiny little partition and NO door or curtain. There was NO way to lock the outside door. She understands why this is, but it creeped her out anyway. See, the 'chick is a private bathroom person. She cannot pee when others are present. She can if she has her own little stall, but not as a social activity. At a strip club, evidently, it is a social activity. A dancer came in while the 'chick was in there and proceeded to chat with the 'chick while she desperately tried to pee. The 'chick was getting embarrassed because it was taking her forever and she wondered what the dancer must be thinking. "When is she going to get done? She's been there FOREVER. My next set must be coming up soon - I hope she's done by then. Is she even peeing or just sitting there? Maybe I should turn the sink on, maybe that will help. Did you ever see such modesty in all your life? And at a strip club too."

That experience pretty much cured the 'chick of hanging out at skin establishments.

So, skin. We've all got it. But the 'chick really doesn't need to look at anyone else's. Especially not if it costs money and leads to peeing as a social activity.


my backyard said...

very interesting.
I'm impressed you could go in those places.

Michelle said...

What a hoot! My brother used to bounce at mom was sooo glad when he quit.

I'll never forget the one I was at in New Orleans and the skinny stripper had more cellulite than I had ever believed possible.

desert rat said...

Never been to any of those joints, and now I know I didn't miss much. Thanks for the entertaining tour. Makes you wonder why they continue to glamorize the industry in so many movies and TV shows; or, well, if not glamorize, at least pretend that it's actually sexy.

Autrice DelDrago said...

ROTFLMA Chick. I bounced at one, way back in my wee 20's... and your observations are keen!

Skyelarke said...

loved the post. especially the philosophical twist to skin in stripclubs.

Chelle Y. said...

Hehe, great post! I don't think I will ever care for that experience though. :)

Pacian said...

I don't think there's anything to add to this beyond thanking the 'chick for writing it.


paris parfait said...

The chick has done a very good job with this clever and amusing piece!

tinker said...

Hee-hee - oh, ahem. uh - Hi, there. Just stopped by to say the 'chick is one funny (and brave) scribbler!


briliantdonkey said...

In her past, the 'chick has visited several, ahem, adult establishments. Always as part of a group and not as a voyeur or for personal gratification.:::::

hmmmmm I wonder how many men have tried THAT explanation before and had it fail miserably. And yet, it some how sounds reasonable when you say