From time to time I will send a little quip in an email, or will put something together as a joke that makes my friends giggle. Recently I put together an instructional manual for my family members on appropriate White Elephant gifting. As a result, I've had many requests to write a blog. Mind you, most people said "You should write a blog." Their tone and inflection may have suggested that they don't find me funny at all and were sarcastically telling me I need to stop. However, I've interpreted their request as a genuine "Amy you are great! You should write a blog!"
I have pulled out my blogging archives (again), and am going to give this another shot. I love to write, I just need people willing to read me. I also need topics! My friends requested that I write about Magic Mike. I have decided this will be the topic of my first blog, well kind of. There is only so much to say about Magic Mike, Channing Tatum is beautiful and those boys are quite talented. It's really something you must see on your own. However, in their honor, I'll share with you my personal experience with a male strip club.
When I was 21, Eric and I got married. We were oh so young. Although I would never recommend this to anyone, I don't regret it. Everything that's happened in my life has happened for a reason and has shaped me into the lovely person I have become today. I could quickly turn sappy vs. silly, so I will move on. Preparing for our big day, our best man and maid of honor arranged our bachelor and bachelorette parties. Eric and I lived together in an itty bitty apartment and made the ridiculous decision to have our parties on the same night. This is also not recommended and if I were to do it again, I would NOT. This evening did nothing positive for my future, nor did it shape me into the lovely person I am now.
I'm not going to lie, I remember little about this evening. I'm sure us ladies went to dinner, and I'm sure we went out partying, but I only remember tid bits of the night which occured at a male strip club in Redneckville (see previous blog about Redneck towns). I also don't remember who was at the party except for my maid of honor, her sister in law (a friend of mine), and my mom. My mom is my best friend, it only makes sense she was there. If you were at this party and I have left you out, don't take it personally.
I was quite excited when we walked into the club. I heard the music bumping loudly and was expecting to walk into a scene from Magic Mike. Instead, I walked into a scene of Middle Aged Men Gone Wild. I am an open-minded chicky. Although I may seem cold-hearted and ruthless, I do have a big heart and never want to hurt anyone's feelings. For that reason, I felt guilty telling any of these men to go away. If you've ever seen the episode of Friends where Danny Devito is the stripper, you'll have a glimpse into my evening.
One thing ran true between this strip club and Magic Mike. The men shaved all their body hair and oiled up. I'm sure the men in Magic Mike did not oil up with Great Value vegetable oil,which I'm pretty sure was the oil of choice by the strippers I saw. I can't prove this, but there was a very distinct cooking "aroma" emanating from their bodies and the oil was caked on as if you were preparing their bodies for a cake mix before to go into the oven.
The men did not dance on the stage which I expected. They danced on the ladies, and apparently if they knew you were a bride-to-be, this made you a prime target. I remember in particular a very very large African American man who did a handstand in front of me, then dropped his feet onto my shoulders while I sat in the chair. You can imagine what he did with his body then. I believe his ankles left oil stains on the shoulders of my t-shirt. I sat there in shock with my hands up in front of me as if there was a spider there I didn't want to touch. Finally mom saved the day, patted his behind and said "Ok, good job, go on now." I have never had so many fat, unattractive, oily men sit on my lap in my life.
About half way through the evening there, someone blindfolded me from behind and led me to a chair on stage. When they took off my blindfold I was nose to "nose" with a, well, a um, g-string. By this time, I was already done with the male strip club. The place was disgusting and smelly, and gross. The big-hearted part of me left the room momentarily, I looked up at the stripper and said "Would you like to get that thing out of my face, or shall I bite the damn thing off!?!?" He said "Oh, come on. Don't be a spoiled sport." I flipped. "Spoiled sport!?!? SPOILED SPORT!?!? Do you realize the crap I've dealt with tonight from you people?" I heard the DJ say "let's give it up for Amy!" and I was escorted from the stage. My crew must have known I had hit my limit as they all got up so we could leave the club.
We arrived back at the apartment about the same time Eric and his crew did. I was drunk, and Eric was really drunk. Eric spent the evening drinking red Aftershock and blue Mad Dog 20/20. After everyone left, we went to bed. Shortly after, Eric became very sick. He went to the bathroom to throw up, but tells me he couldn't find the toilet, the sink, or the tub. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom Exorcist style, and sprayed down every inch of the bathroom, wall to wall, ceiling and floor with projectile purple vomit. He then made his way back to the bedroom where he passed out on the floor and continued to vomit purple vomit on the white carpet.
I tried to wake him up gently by kicking him, hitting him, slapping him and dropping the remote control on his head yet he still would not respond. I called my mom at 3:00 am. I cried "He'th tho drunk, I hate him tho muth. I aint gonna marry that thon-of-a-bith. He didn't even pick up his thocks." Mom said "Amy, you are also 'tho drunk'. You love Eric, you will want to marry him again tomorrow. Go to bed now." I said "But you don't underthand mom. He'th a horribible perthon. There'th purple people eather poop everwherth." Mom seemed shocked and said "He pooped on the wall?!?" I said "NO! You don't lithen. Purple poop everywherth." Mom laid down the law and told me to GO TO BED and call her in the morning!!!
The next morning was rough and there was definately some chatting to be had. I laid down the law and Eric agreed to never again drink so much that he couldn't find the bathtub while standing in the bathroom. I agreed that I would no longer kick him or drop things on his head in an effort to wake him up. Everything has been great ever since.
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