cyaluminus

So my birthday was a couple weeks ago, and I think I've had enough time to sort of put everything in perspective. There are a few lessons I'd like to relate.

Some folks view strippers and their patrons as paradoxically intertwined. The 'men,' in this conception, objectify the 'women' by staring unabashedly as the 'women' dance and remove their clothes. The 'women' simultaneously degrade the 'men' by retrurning this total lack of human acknowledgement. These people are real, and they're everywhere. I know, I used to be one of them. These people suck.

Strippers rock. They jump around and jiggle their tits and take off their underwear. It's not that they don't really like their patrons, although I'm sure every stripper has run into the bad ones. No no, stripping is all about acting. Thses chicks' job is to portray the hottest, sluttiest, nastiest piece of ass in the city, and in Portland that can be a tough game. But just because these chicks have to play the role of the life of the party doesn't mean they can't actually be pretty cool.

I had lunch with a stripper in Seattle once, though I didn't realize beforehand that she was. I also didn't realize until much later that I had actually been on a date with a stripper. Regardless, she was a really smart, very attractive young woman, who was almost disquietingly well-adjusted. Better adjusted by far, compared to the poo-flinging lab monkeys that go to my school.

I digress: Strippers are awesome. That said, having been really drunk in a strip club for a couple hours, leaving is an experience in itself. It is suddenly quiet, bright, cool, and smoke-free. And suddenly, women will be really impressed when you stare at them. Provided you're a cute young blond boy wearing a grin that says "I just saw the funniest tattoo ever, on the finest piece of tail ever."

Sure, I've learned a thing or two about objectifying women recently, largely from strippers. But I'll never use those gifts on them. What would be the point? They're just performers.