I've never been to a strip club. I was ordered to meet a contact in one a few hours into Grand Theft Auto IV, but I was able to close my eyes and turn off the console about three seconds after receiving the mission so I came out of the situation relatively unscathed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude by any means. Naked women don't bother me at all so long as they don't call me names or come anywhere near me.
My aversion to strip clubs is purely philosophical in nature, partially because the billboard for my local gentleman's establishment reads Socra-tease: Come Ogle Our Aristotles And Eat Platos Of Our Free Buffet.
I completely understand man's primal need to see the female form in all its penis-less glory and rub one out in the kitchen sink. What I don't understand is the need to pay for the privelege of sitting in a room full of dudes while looking at naked women with emotional problems who won't have sex with you when you can see other naked women with emotional problems who won't have sex with you on the internet for free.
Even if I don't get the appeal of strip clubs, guys will continue to patronize them so I might as well make the best of a bad situation and offer up a few simple rules of etiquette. It's true that I don't have any firsthand experience to base this advice on. I did, however, see Kiss Of Death, which featured Nicholas Cage living in a strip club and choking David Caruso. That makes me something of an expert.
Every strip club has a strict "no touching" policy, and violating it will get you thrown out by a greasy dude with a ponytail and a fanny pack strapped around his pot belly.
Training yourself to deal with this isn't too difficult. Order several glasses of water, then use your face to tip them over on the very edge of your table. Now maneuver your mouth to catch the liquid as it pours out. In no time at all, you'll be ready to drink the adult beverage of your choice without using your hands.
Small children should be strapped into their car seat, facing away from the stage.
The young ladies who dance in strip clubs make the majority of their money from tips, much like waitresses and congressmen. How do you know when it's appropriate to tip? Wait until your stripper has just finished an impressive feat, such as doing a backflip or intentionally separating her shoulder then popping it back in. If it helps, imagine that she is a seal at Sea World. Move in to tip when it seems as though she should be clapping her flippers together and barking.
Knowing how much to tip can be tricky. You don't want to be stingy, but then again you want to have enough money left in your wallet to keep any potential muggers from pistol whipping you.
As a rule of thumb, you want each tip to start out at $5. Deduct one dollar for every tooth that your stripper is missing, then add three dollars for every child at home that she tells you about (adding three dollars for every kid with autism/blindness/gigantism).
Reading The Signs
if a dancer flirts with you after you've tipped her, she has chosen you as her mate. If you decline her marriage proposal, you will insult her culture.
Reaching for the wrong utensil during the business man's buffet can be downright embarassing. Remember, from left to right the order goes: salad fork, seafood fork, normal fork, steak knife, butter knife, spoon, speculum.
Lap Of Luxury
Some strippers may attempt to harness your body heat in the cold winter season by grinding in your lap all weird-like. A few controlled sprays of urine will deter them.
The Boner Situation
Once in a great while, looking at naked women can make a man excited. This can be embarassing for those of us unlucky enough to have erections that are large enough to be noticed. The solution?
Before going to a strip club, tape your penis up in several layers of bubble wrap and stuff everything into a Pringles can, then put your pants on over the schwanz containment unit. To casual observers, the tremendous bulge in your pants will appear the same when you're flaccid and erect.
Somewhere A Little More Uncomfortable
You may be propositioned by a stripper to join her in a private room. Tempting as it may seem, do not accept! She only wants to make you move heavy boxes around the office and rearrange the furniture.
Removing yourself from a strip club after hours of drinking with half a boner is a difficult maneuver that ranks right up there with Operation Market Garden and Forcing Yourself To Eat Your Girlfriend's Parent's Veggie Chili That Featuring Some Sort Of Meat Replacement That Tastes Like Pickled Peanut Butter.
The best way to extract yourself from the building is to make three quick tugs on the rope that has been tied around your waist, signaling the day workers you hired to reel you back into the parking lot.
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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