You know that you’re a bourgeois bachelor when strip clubs are required to have a touch of class for you to attend them… or at least pretend to. When the booze and food must compliment and not be sacrificed by the twirling pretty on the stage. When it becomes all about entertaining friends over getting your rocks off on the bizarre ritual known as the “lap dance”. Well when you have experienced the world and you have learnt to sip your wine over lushing out and getting drunk every time, then the prospect of the nude seductress will have lost it’s power and you will be rational and coherent in your choices of establishments.

Is it wrong that I have a stripper bank set to the side specifically for the club? Does this make me the worst kind of trick or am I just practical? I mean, myself and a few of my single friends, have a history with “the club”. We are comfortable there, will defend it when the know-nothings preach bad on it and can handle ourselves properly as patrons. That being said, the end of the year is normally birthday and holiday celebrations for the fellas. That boils down to scantily clad friendlies, red wine and naked grinding.

This however comes at a price and while a portion of the stripper box does go to the lucky recipient of my lap, the majority is for kickass food that starts the night within. And I know what you’re thinking, strippers and food dude, how does that work? Well this “club” that I’m propping isn’t the run-of-the-mill strip joint. Been there done that, if you want to go get blue balls by a prostitute in some seedy closet turned club, then more power to you. Having attended these places since the tender age of 18, I have refined my taste to topless bars and real gentlemen’s clubs. It’s all the same really, unless you are really hard up to see a fully nude stranger.

Anyway, a proper gentleman’s club will be frequented by men with money, important people (financially) and athletes. For Joe Grinds like myself, it is a place where you feel comfortable and more playboy than random trick. And we are tricks, don’t get me wrong, but what’s the saying “it ain’t trickin if you got it?” hence my need to keep a box of singles throughout the year for such an occasion.

Being gun shy about free publicity as I am, I won’t air out the name of the establishment that we choose for our celebrations but I will just say this – if you’re in the Tampa Bay area then look for the one named after a popular men’s magazine. The mountain of love club that Tampa is famous for should be renamed to blonde, meat market and there are no odyssey’s in outer space, just meth heads and rock queens who have resorted to the pole as an income stream. Yup in our club, I don’t feel used, badgered or rushed, I am escorted to my table by a concierge, poured some wine to start my meal and treated to some good company should I desire it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So if you’re like myself, a bourgeois bachelor type who has had his share of the stereotypical meat markets, I advise you to look for the clubs where they show less and you can drink more. Things just seem to be a bit more classy when the pasties stay on and if they have a kickass chef, then like me you will have found a home away from home. Tip well, eat heartily and enjoy the show – recession or no, the show must go on and you must choose wisely if you intend to go home feeling good about yourself.

Written by Greg Dragon on Monday, December 7, 2009 

Filed under A Touch of Class, Clubs and Partying
Tagged with athletes, bachelors, lap dance, strippers