Strip clubs have always intrigued me. I’ve been curious about what they look like, and the experience of going inside of them. Are the girls fully naked? Do they look like the gorgeous strippers seen on TV or in movies? Why do men love to have bachelor parties there? These types of questions have had me curious for years.
On Saturday night, my fiancé and I went to our friend’s birthday party. It started out as a typical shot-and-drink party. Everyone was enjoying their alcoholic beverages and laughing at the occasional face Matt would make after taking a horrible birthday shot. Matt was turning 22 and he wanted to treat his birthday like he was still 21, so the horrible shots kept coming.
We had intended on staying just an hour or so, but ended up staying out for five. About halfway through the night, not realizing how much the liquor had affected me, I blurted out that we should take Matt to Sugars, the local strip club. I’d always heard wild stories about the place, and figured that this would be the perfect time to go.
My fiancé was somewhat nervous about going with me. He was much more sober than I was, so I’m sure the question of “What if she catches me looking at a girl’s boobs?” crossed his mind. But I was so excited and curious about going inside the strip club that I didn’t even think about the awkwardness that might come between the two of us.
As the eight of us approached Sugars I heard techno music coming out of the door. My heart started pounding. There was a $5 cover charge to get in, and of course my fiancé paid it for me. He’s such a gentleman, even when entering a “perverted” club.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the club was the foggy smoke that filled the building. The giant room was extremely dark. There was a bar in the center with men flocking around it, and neon signs everywhere provided most of the light. Eventually my gazed reached the large stage with its strobe lights and stripper poles. There were also a few side stages that I expected were for private dances. The DJ was on the other side of the club. He was higher up than the stage and could see the whole place. He knew all of the strippers by name and seemed to know their favorite songs to dance to.
We took seats and my fiancé handed me a dollar bill. I knew exactly what it was for, but he whispered in my ear, “You need to experience the full version.” So my roommate and I went up to the main stage, holding out the dollar bill.
After getting used to the sight of the half-naked, twirling, brunette stripper in front of me, I saw that she wanted me to take a step closer. Being the prudish and innocent girl that I am, I had no idea what to do when she bent over.
She could tell that I was new to this because my face was bright red.
She turned me around and began to rub herself all over my body. She was certainly not afraid of invading people’s bubbles. This genuinely nice stripper whispered in my ear, “Aw, you’re so innocent and shy.” Which was 100% true. With her hands she caressed me from my neck all the way down to my butt. After slapping my butt extremely hard, she turned me around and left a giant dark red lipstick mark on my neck. After getting past the idea that I had just experienced a semi-lesbian moment, I was able to put the dollar in her g-string.
Walking back to where my fiancé was sitting, I felt very awkward and intrigued. Was that what all the hype was about? I could see why guys come in groups; it was a fun encounter. My fiancé was was trying hard to hide his smirk. After I looked at him for about a minute he gave up and burst out laughing. He found it hilarious that someone like me just got caressed and somewhat violated by a giant stripper. He even tried to talk me into getting a personal lap dance, for his own amusement.
I eventually asked him if he felt awkward, and if he was “turned on” by the environment. He simply replied, “I’m having a lot of fun with you, and none of them look anything like you. So no, I’m not turned on at all.” Which was very smart and sweet on his part. I’d probably have been okay if he’d cracked a joke about some of the strippers’ boobs being nice, but also probably a little intimidated.
We sat and watched as various people went up the stage to get those extremely uncomfortable strip dances. Some were giddy girls, looking, I suppose, like what I had looked like. And some were extremely nerdy-looking college guys who just wanted some boobies in their face.
After about an hour in Sugars, my fiancé and I decided that we’d had enough strip club fun. I had experienced something that had always intrigued to me, and had fun doing it.
My fiancé and I make little jokes at each other now about that night. I was happy that he and I were able to spend that unique, yet sexually uncomfortable, night together. Now on our bachelor/bachelorette nights, I will know what he’ll be getting himself into. And thanks to Sugars, I have not a worry or question in my mind.