Lost My Innocense For $26
As a warning, this post does deal with “adult” issues and themes. I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize to my parents and grandparents.
Last night changed my life forever. It started out at Borders and ended up at a strip club. I guess I’ll start from the beginning. I went to Boarders at Madison Square Garden to get some new reading material. After purchasing the latest Sarah Vowell book and Kafka that I should have read in high school, I called my friend Jenny to see if she wanted to go get a drink. Let me stress that point, one singular drink with a friend, hopefully at some dive bar near a subway stop. I headed over to her apartment, where we decided to head uptown and meet a few of her friends for a happy hour. Sounded good at the time.
We arrive and I spend 6 dollars on the only drink I will pay for all night. Before I know it, Jenny has befriended a group of young professionals who all work for a hedge fund. I pretend to know what they are talking about over the next few hours as they buy myself and two dozen other people drinks. Then came the entire rounds of shots. We started to enter this dangerous territory around 8pm-ish.
These guys were money. When asked where I lived, I only replied with “Upper West Side.” Most of them had spent some amount of time in Alaska, so I had a starting place to start a conversation with most of them. I lost a round of pool and before I knew it we were off to a gentleman’s club on the west side.
This is where the night started to get weird for me. I paid my twenty dollar cover and walked into my first strip club experience. The money guys had purchased half of the dancers, who were now making lap dance rounds. When it came for my turn, I had no clue what to do. I really wish that was a conversation I had had with a creepy uncle when I was younger, “Nick, when she starts to grind on you, do…” Without any reference point other than terrible cheezy comedys that had a scene or two in a strip club, I just sat there trying not to look petrified.
Apparently it didn’t work.
The best advice a stripper has ever given me was, “Honey, relax and try not to look so scared.” Immediately afterwards I’m discussing what had just happened with Jenny as she reminds me, “dude, that was 100 bucks dancing on your dick.” To which I could only reply, “I guess I should have tried to enjoy it more.” The whole experience was surreal for me. Normal people don’t walk around a room naked. I sat there imagining thousands of Victorian puritans shaking their heads in disgust at me. I won’t get to much into getting shut out of the champaign room other than Jenny proclaiming that she was chugging Crystal (extremely expensive champaign).
We left the club before midnight. ALL OF THIS HAPPENED BEFORE MIDNIGHT. We headed back to Jenn’s place, where I would not get any sleep and proceed to be the most inebriated I had been in quite some time. I only spent 6 dollars on drinks over the course of the adventure, quite the bang for my buck. After getting little to no sleep, I left her place and proceeded to make my way back up to W 156th without getting sick.
Overall it was a pretty good night, and if I see anything with tequila for the next 2 weeks, I’m going to puke.
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