Strip Joint Story: Yes -- The Place Was As Nasty As I Had Heard
At the end of my junior year in college, I prepared to say goodbye to one of my best friends, Roger. Roger was a year ahead of me and had just accepted an out-of-state job working for the Boy Scouts of America. Before he moved, however, his brother and a few friends set up a going away party for him at a place that had a famous local reputation, a strip joint named Joe and Jan's. Word was that the place was a nasty-ass club run by the Mafia. I had heard stories earlier in the year -- stories I had dismissed as being part of the usually bullshit stories told by one of my roomies. Now I would find out the truth.
I don't remember if we paid a cover to enter. I think we got in free and were thinking "man -- this is a good deal." Then we saw the "club:" a ratty room with card tables set up u-shaped with chairs all around the outside. Someone ordered a pitcher of beer and we were shocked to find out that the pitcher cost us three or four times what we would pay at the local campus pub. Roger was having the time of his life and even was more than willing to buy the strippers the bogus drinks that cost a fortune. Then the real fun began.
A stripper got on the stage and proceeded to grab the cowboy hat of Roger's brother. She put both boobs in it and paraded up and down the tables. A nasty, dirty-looking old coot sitting at one of the tables flashed a dollar bill and the stripper came right to him. Instead of doing the old "let him slide the bill in my g-string" routine (the stripper was completely in the buff anyway), she sat down in front of his face, spread her legs, and he went diving in full force. Pretty soon a bunch of other guys were all waving dollars in the air. One by one, they all went muff diving with this stripper. Finally, Roger's brother calls her over and requests a freebie since she used his hat. The next thing I know this stripper's leg was in front of me as the brother went to town and got his share. She seemed to be enjoying it all, with boobs covered in slimy saliva from all the guys who were also getting their share of action on the top.
Since the place had that reputation of being run by organized crime, we thought it best to not extend our stay too long, not to mention we didn't want to be buying more of the expensive pitchers. On the ride home, Roger's brother had the classic shit-eating grin on his face. Well ... he was eating something!
We never got to go back to Joe and Jan's as it burned to the ground several months after our visit. The rumor was that the owners got behind on some of their payments and the mafiosos extracted their revenge.
I have never been able to understand why some guys pay hundreds of dollars at strip clubs to see a little female flesh and get some crappy dances with a little rubbing. I guess they just don't know the value of a dollar like I came to know it so many years ago.
I don't remember if we paid a cover to enter. I think we got in free and were thinking "man -- this is a good deal." Then we saw the "club:" a ratty room with card tables set up u-shaped with chairs all around the outside. Someone ordered a pitcher of beer and we were shocked to find out that the pitcher cost us three or four times what we would pay at the local campus pub. Roger was having the time of his life and even was more than willing to buy the strippers the bogus drinks that cost a fortune. Then the real fun began.
A stripper got on the stage and proceeded to grab the cowboy hat of Roger's brother. She put both boobs in it and paraded up and down the tables. A nasty, dirty-looking old coot sitting at one of the tables flashed a dollar bill and the stripper came right to him. Instead of doing the old "let him slide the bill in my g-string" routine (the stripper was completely in the buff anyway), she sat down in front of his face, spread her legs, and he went diving in full force. Pretty soon a bunch of other guys were all waving dollars in the air. One by one, they all went muff diving with this stripper. Finally, Roger's brother calls her over and requests a freebie since she used his hat. The next thing I know this stripper's leg was in front of me as the brother went to town and got his share. She seemed to be enjoying it all, with boobs covered in slimy saliva from all the guys who were also getting their share of action on the top.
Since the place had that reputation of being run by organized crime, we thought it best to not extend our stay too long, not to mention we didn't want to be buying more of the expensive pitchers. On the ride home, Roger's brother had the classic shit-eating grin on his face. Well ... he was eating something!
We never got to go back to Joe and Jan's as it burned to the ground several months after our visit. The rumor was that the owners got behind on some of their payments and the mafiosos extracted their revenge.
I have never been able to understand why some guys pay hundreds of dollars at strip clubs to see a little female flesh and get some crappy dances with a little rubbing. I guess they just don't know the value of a dollar like I came to know it so many years ago.
posted by lightning36 at 12:08 AM
5 Comments:
Good story. I love how we get the Mafia involved! This has elements of my story--boos in a cowboy hat, and sounds like theose girls were offering what the Peanut Butter Lady was offering but much more blantantly.
Funniest part tho was the guy you were throwing the party for--AT A VERY SLEAZY STRIP CLUB--was about to take a job at the Boy Scouts of America.
He hardly sounds like a Boy Scout to me!
When I was in the service, I bought a Plymouth convertible. Don't get green with envy; it cost $50. On the weekends I operate as a taxi. It'd pay for a weekend trip. Usually it was Denton and Texas Women's University. But once, we hit Fort Worth and stayed in the same hotel that Kennedy spent his last night in a few months later.
They had this bar on the top floor and on weekends they had amateur stripping. They really didn't mind how far the girls went. I am not sure what the allure was for the girls. If things slowed the guys whould chant, "Get some meat on the tables."
The girl doing naked back bends wasn't really dancing but was very well received. I was well position to get a great education in anatomy.
Can you finish the story and tell the part where the brother woke up the next morning with strange red bumps all over his face. Jesus I would never, ever, eat out some skanky hooker in a dark, skank hole like that.
I'd love an advertisement that said "Motorboats $1"
I'd be all over that
Great story -- you couldn't make this stuff up!
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