So,
a friend of a friend's came into the bar the other night,
and said she thought that I should do a column about
women who visit titty bars. Just the idea twisted my
mouth into a grimace of annoyance, though I pretended
I felt otherwise. But whenever your face does something
in spite of yourself, there's something there, a little
bit o' thorniness to be examined. So here ya go, ya
gorgeous Clara Bow girl, who stared at me with evident
excitement and supported the arts most sufficiently
and respectfully...aw, honey, if only they could all
be like you!
Women are fascinating psych-maps, wild
cards at all times, and sensitive to the subtlest vibrations.
I can't understand 'em....try to avoid 'em....don't
really trust 'em. "Snakes in the grass," grandma told
ma told me. Snakes in the grass. Infinitely wise, infinitely
cunning, infinitely slippery and unpredictable. I don't
even trust myself.
Of course some women--the luminous ones,
well on their way to beatific self-actualization--sit
at the rack side by side with the boys. They tip well,
are sufficiently entertained, appreciative and even
tacitly approving. They are delightful. Gorgeous. Fascinating.
Possibly still snakes, but I am easily beguiled...
But for those handful of lovelies, how
many crass, khaki-clad naysaying wenches must we endure?
It's obvious they feel threatened. They've entered the
temple of doom and must a) be obnoxiously naughty and
distracting, or b) be rude and derisive. Girls will
often snicker and loudly whisper how fat/thin you are,
how large/small your breasts, etc. And the gals who
are out with their guys in the naked city, they gotta
show that they are as naughty/desirable/into exhibitionism
as the working girl. This type makes out with strangers
at the rack, sits on laps and keeps her hands and tongue
awfully busy.
It never works to call these girls on
their improprieties. I've had it escalate into some
pretty ugly stuff.
"Uh, excuse me? You're being rude...could
you at least whisper so I can't hear you?"
"YOU'RE being rude!! I can't believe
you just said that to ME!! I'm gonna get you fired!"
On the other hand, it's probably good
that these ladies are taking the first step in confronting
their hang-ups by staring us Beasts in the eyes. There's
a multitude of things to be learned in a strip club.
One that's perhaps most important for women is that
titty bars are not all they're cracked up to be. The
women are not always strung-out junkies who whore about
the bar, trying to steal people's husbands after giving
a degrading gynecological show for fat furry oafs. I
myself was shocked to learn that strip bars, of all
places, are filled with the neo-proverbial thousand
points of light. And, if you watch the show respectfully,
you just might learn something about yourself. The gal
who commissioned this piece said she'd learned a lot
about her own sexuality!! Mahvelous! I wanted to pick
her pretty brain on that one, but she vanished into
the sultry old town night. So here's your column, doll.
Hopefully you'll be in again soon so we can compare
notes on what we've really learned. Here's a few bits
that knocked my socks off (and everything else):
* Women come in all shapes and sizes.
And people find this variety attractive
*
and wonderful. Outrageous!!
* A very large number of men, when faced
with an all-nude girl, prefer to look
*
her in the eyes and get turned on thusly. And so do
I.
* Naked girls are open about a lot more
than their bodies. Frequently they'll
*
let you into their lives without prejudice or suspicion
and can quickly
*
become your best friends.
Oh, and one final admonition for the
guys and gals....Giving a stripper a dollar in your
mouth is SO unhygienic, and not at all sexy! Perhaps
it pleases the boys, but you and I are in danger of
contracting the whole alphabet of hepatitises! Think
about it.
p.s. Lucy Fur is mounting
another one of her fabulous productions!! DO NOT miss
her Cartoon Cabaret, February 11th at Berbati's.
Yours truly will be there, with long tails and ears
for hats, guitars with sharps and flats...A benefit
for Northwest Rock Medicine, cover is $7/$5 with costume.
