Broken Wing

Sin City prepares for my arrival

I am going to Las Vegas this weekend to witness the marvel that is Chris Samp play in a college football all star game. The last time I went to Las Vegas was for a bachelor party in May 2003, and the town hasn't been the same since.

The groom's brother, who was also the best man, had told us he didn't want to do a cliche bachelor party with strippers and the like, because the groom was a fundamentalist Christian preparing for a career in the ministry. Somehow the best man didn't think his brother would mind the round-the-clock drunkenness, hours of gambling, and erotic nightclub dancing. Well played, my friend.

However, once we were there, I think it was inevitable that we would end up at a strip club, and we did. I had only been to one strip club before this, in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and I figured they all looked like that one. In the U.P., we had 10 guys on a ski trip, maybe 1 or 2 older than 21. No one at the club seemed to mind that fact, as we probably doubled their alcohol sales for that month in our one night there. Anyways, the club in the U.P. had like 3 "dancers", and they took turns "dancing". Walking into the club in Las Vegas was like a kid walking into a candy store, assuming that kids like to have sex with candy. There are like 3 strippers per square foot in this place - they're so numerous that you are not even sure where to look.

You see, a man's brain is programmed to reflexively snap the head to look towards any naked woman that it sees. Inside this strip club, your head just starts snapping back and forth every time a new naked woman walks by, and it is completely out of your control. Every five minutes or so, your neck will get extremely tired. At this point, you need to go into a corner and just stare at the walls, so that your neck muscles get some time to recover.

There are a few funny things that happened here. First, a dancer asked Jared if he wanted a lap dance for $20. He tried to talk her down to $10, and in a very insulted voice she told him "$10? Reno is that way!" (pointing North with her nipple tassles). Then, we (Read: I) bought the groom a lap dance. I figured since it was us forcing "sin" upon him, he was not culpable and God would just add the punishment onto my already eternal sentence. Another stripper, undoubtedly down on her luck due to her old age and unsightly appearance, came over to me thinking I must be a big spender. Now, at this point all of us had settled down in seats to watch our friend awkwardly receive a lap dance. But this woman wouldn't leave me alone, and kept persisting that she wanted to dance for me. Finally, I got fed up and said: "FINE. If you really want to dance, go ahead, but I'm not going to watch you."

My friends now watched in hilarity as this woman danced in front of me. Meanwhile, I kept my promise and did not watch her at all. I was looking around her, because I was here for someone else's bachelor party. So now, the other guys are laughing their asses off, because I'm ignoring a lap dance, and our other friend is getting a lap dance, and they were drunk, so everything seemed funny even though as I read it here it doesn't sound funny.

There is a game that goes on during a lap dance. Strippers, not content with their upfront $20, will bombard you with ridiculous compliments in the hopes of receiving great tips. The intensity of the compliment is inversely related to the distance of your hand from your wallet, i.e. the closer you are to your money, the more flattering they are. However, I discovered that one can also illicit intense flattery by being completely disinterested, as I was - I wasn't even watching her. So, I was just responding to her compliments with smartassery, which I thought was really funny, but unfortunately no one heard me. For instance:

Stripper: "Wow! You're really good looking - you should be in movies."
Me: "What are you talking about? I own mirrors, you know. If I was good looking I think I'd know about it."

Then, noticing that didn't work:
Stripper: "You're huge! I've never danced for someone this big."
Me: "I've seen pornography, and while I certainly have nothing to be ashamed of, I find that really difficult to believe."

Frustrated with her futility, she goes for the jackpot:
Stripper: "I used to think that Abraham Lincoln was the greatest American ever, but now I think it's you."

Okay, she didn't really say that last one. Or the first two. Come to think of it, I was drunk the whole time so it may have all been a dream. Anyways, if she really wanted a tip, all she had to say was this:

Stripper: "I think you're the best computer scientist in the world."
Me: "How do I arrange to have my paychecks deposited into your checking account?"

And that was my first Las Vegas experience. I don't anticipate going to any strip clubs this time, so hopefully I can maintain a positive balance in my bank account. I will be taking pictures and copious notes this time though, so I will post anything interesting that happens. Posted by mill1991 at January 20, 2005 01:33 PM | TrackBack