Sunday, November 29, 2009

A Strip Club Conversation

So my 4-month old tabby kitten has a new obsession with picking up his toys  (or my stray jewelry), and taking it into the bathtub to play. Strange? For an animal who is supposed to be terrified of water, he sure has picked a funny place to play. That’s not the only thing (as he is shitting once again while I write this), he also enjoys going into the shower after I get out. The cat will sit there right outside the shower door and wait for me to finish. As soon as I step out of the shower, he will jump right in and play with the last drops of water. I guess that’s what you get when you find your pet under the hood of your car after an 8-hour, cross-state road trip.

I’m going to transition into my next topic by mentioning a rabies shot. The rabies shot I didn’t make it up in time to take my little guy to go get this morning. Let’s just say it was a long night/early morning, and I had to be at work for 10 hours today.

So there was a strip club involved in my failure to rise at a reasonable hour to drive my cat to the rabies shot before work. There was a strip club and a long walk. A strip club, a long walk, and many people emerging from my past at various bars in 3 different neighborhoods around town.

Now, this was not my first time at a strip club, but I’m hardly a regular. I just find these erotic human watering holes to be very fascinating. People always interest me: personal interactions, the way they stand, talk, drink, dance, etc… For obvious reasons, human beings at strip clubs are just that much more entertaining than they are in more socially acceptable situations.

This particular night, I had a bizarre and uncommon interaction in the midst of all the scantily clad, emotionally barren women. I had an real conversation. I stood at the bar for over an hour talking to a guy in-depth about a topic. We had a full-on conversation…at a strip club. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation that long with a guy at a regular bar, much less one where I was the most prude looking woman around. In fact, he kept making comments about me getting too distracted while we were engaged in this chat of sorts.

Don’t get me wrong. This was not a discussion about Middle East Peace or Global Warming. (However, he did make a reference to Obama being President when he checked to make sure that I had at least been laid since January.) This conversation included his suggestion that I meet a random stranger at a bar and have wild, passionate sex, and then never speak again. He reassured me though, that he could take me home and do his thing and never speak to me again just as much as he could do the same with the strip club bartender, however, he would feel bad about doing that to me due to my personal  profession choice as compared to hers.

Now, this guy wasn’t a complete stranger. I had actually arrived at the strip club with him and 2 more of my male friends just a few minutes prior to us launching into our  intense exchange. He was a friend of a friend who I had just met earlier that night. Despite the crude, forward nature of our conversation, there was something about this guy that I found intriguing. He pulled no punches, and was very honest about the way he felt- even explaining how men often take longer to heal after a bad break-up than women do. This apparently kind of  accounts for why they exhibit whorish behavior at times.( Funny, all these years I thought it was nothing more than a combination of testosterone, ego, and boos.)  He went on to ask me about how I felt about my body, and what I was looking for in someone else. I again explained to him, as I have with other men, that I am not “looking” for anything. If I was looking for something, knowing that I am an extremely determined individual,  I would have already found it in some way, shape, or form. I know what I am not looking for, but I try not to expect to find anything on my own. Situations/circumstances/people tend to find me just fine. I have never been one to search.

That said, and I digress, I am in no way a passive person. I definitely take charge of my life, and I make things happen for myself that I know I want to happen. I just don’t want to base the state of my happiness on my relationships with other people. Do you see the only child coming out in my words? (please nod yes) I am at a point where I am content with myself. Why fuck that up by “looking” for something or someone who would probably only exist in my head? Surprise me people.

Anyway, the strip club. Standard.

 

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