Especially when you are not expecting them. Heh. Or when you are a woman. Heh.
Not unpleasant, but different.
So after the batting cage disaster, we went to the local strip club. It is a completely nude strip joint. That makes things interesting.
So we get there, get it and sit down at two tables. The first stripper that comes up to us looks like she is strung out, and furthermore sounds like it. Not to mention she is about 6 feet tall, and decidedly un curvy. No boobs. Literally. She said something to the effect of, and she was slightly slurry when talking:
"Do youuu want aaaaaaa laaaaaap danceeeeeee?"
Um, no thank you. Go tweak somewhere else please.
I am not exactly sure why the strippers have the need to shave every last hair from their bodies, but they do.
Now some of these girls were so tiny, that even in clothes you might mistake them for a child. But unclothed, with no boobs, and no pubic hair, they looked like freakin 8 year olds, which just squicks the ever loving hell out of me.
Unbeknownst to me, I was about to get a lap/couch dance, courtesy of one of my friends.
The girl he picked was very cute, and actually had boobs, although not huge, and not real.
And leg warmers.
WTF is it with the leg warmers? Almost every one of the strippers wore them.
Anyway, after I almost choked, she lead me to the booth, where they do the lap/table/couch/pole dance thing. I suspect my face turned bright freakin red. The girl was very nice, and asked if that was my boyfriend or my husband. I said who? She replies, the one who bought the dance. So, being the shit I am I said, oh yeah, he's my boyfriend, and my husband was the one sitting next to me. I think she turned red.
Now I have never really felt the need to examine someones anoose up close and personal, nor have I ever felt the need to give a visual gynecological exam, but apparently that is what most strip customers expect.
I honestly did not know where to look, so I just started laughing. Loud. They (bastards at my table) heard me laughing. The club is loud. That is how loud I was laughing.
The girl would bend over so I could give her her visual gyne exam, stick her junk in my face like this close >< to my face, and then bend over, and look at me with her head between her legs. Where are you supposed to look when that happens?
Then we got the fake orgasm. Well that was interesting.
Then I got the lick up the side of my face with the rllllll, tongue rolling sound. That little bit there I have been doing to Rob periodically since then, not so much the face lick, but going up to his ear and purring. I find it funny.
She then asks if anyone has informed the management that it is my birthday. I said no. She said she would and they would pull me up on stage. I almost had the coronary right there.
Then my "boyfriend" snags my fucking license, and takes it to the management, so that can happen.
Not amused. I was actually embarrassed a bit about the dance, because every.one.was.staring.at.me.the.entire.time.
So I warned him, that I would get him. He wouldn't know when, or where, or even how, but I would get him. My plan, was to take his ass up on stage when they called me up, because that would have flustered the hell out of him, and amused me. That never happened though, because they never called me up.
The DJ at the joint was a total ass. I wanted to punch him. The comments he made were revolting. Talking shit about how wives don't put out, and how they are fat, just being a total prick. Every time after he made those comments, and he would walk by me, I would glare at him. Smug little smarmy prick. He wouldn't know a real woman if she walked up and hit him in the face.
So that was the gist of the strip adventure. I have yet to pay back my "boyfriend" for the dance. But I will. Oh I will!