I have now seen it all. During my schooling, entering into my senior year of University, two of my male friends decided I needed to expand my worldly knowledge. They knew I had led a very sheltered life and had not experienced a lot of “life” as they know it.
When you’ve been raising children most of your life, your experiences are somewhat limited, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, friend No. 1 asked if I had ever been to a strip club. “Well of course," I replied with some superiority. I’ve seen the Chippendale guys and even went to Le Bare, the only “girls” club in Houston.” What they didn’t know is I saw them – from under the table with my hands over my eyes, hoping no one I knew would see me in a club where guys strip for girls (another story for another time!)
That wasn’t what he had in mind, however. He and friend No.2 said they were going to take me some place really nice, but with girls. Now, why on earth would I want to see nekkid girls? But the guys insisted and since I was still in school, they considered this a key element in my education process.
So, there we were at this kind of nice place, at least as nice as strip clubs go. We sat at a little table in a dark corner, one male friend on either side of me.
I want you to know, I was the only, fully dressed female in the place. I had just been to the Houston Live Stock Show and Rodeo and was sitting there in full cowgirl regalia – you know, jeans, boots, hat, the whole nine yards – or enchilada – it had been “Go Tejano” night at RodeoHouston™.
But those girls – you should have seen what they were doing. Some of them must have been double jointed. There was this one young thing that if someone pushed her from behind she would topple over like a set of dominoes – boom, boom. Then she would have bounced all over the floor – look ma, no hands.
Oh, and there was another girl with cellulite on her behind. I could see it from the corner where I was sitting. I excitedly pointed this out to my friends, rather loudly I might add, when all of a sudden I found a hand clamped over my mouth.
Yes, I was able to find something wrong with every dancer in the club. A couple of the girls looked as if they needed to be put out to pasture, and I don’t mean because they were looking too old!
Some of the women looked as if they had bosoms enough to supply an entire nursery. One little girl (I say little only because she was younger and shorter than me) was an acquaintance of male friend No. 1 and was so excited about her newest surgery that she pulled down her stretch-top and ecstatically bounced all around in little circles.
Stupidly, I asked the guys if seeing this much bare skin gets old after a while. They both looked at me as if I was suddenly contagious with a terminal disease!
According to my male friends, this was just another step in furthering my worldly education. I just wonder if my new knowledge will open doors for me.
Nope – I can’t afford the surgery.
www.communicatewithimpact.com
When you’ve been raising children most of your life, your experiences are somewhat limited, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, friend No. 1 asked if I had ever been to a strip club. “Well of course," I replied with some superiority. I’ve seen the Chippendale guys and even went to Le Bare, the only “girls” club in Houston.” What they didn’t know is I saw them – from under the table with my hands over my eyes, hoping no one I knew would see me in a club where guys strip for girls (another story for another time!)
That wasn’t what he had in mind, however. He and friend No.2 said they were going to take me some place really nice, but with girls. Now, why on earth would I want to see nekkid girls? But the guys insisted and since I was still in school, they considered this a key element in my education process.
So, there we were at this kind of nice place, at least as nice as strip clubs go. We sat at a little table in a dark corner, one male friend on either side of me.
I want you to know, I was the only, fully dressed female in the place. I had just been to the Houston Live Stock Show and Rodeo and was sitting there in full cowgirl regalia – you know, jeans, boots, hat, the whole nine yards – or enchilada – it had been “Go Tejano” night at RodeoHouston™.
But those girls – you should have seen what they were doing. Some of them must have been double jointed. There was this one young thing that if someone pushed her from behind she would topple over like a set of dominoes – boom, boom. Then she would have bounced all over the floor – look ma, no hands.
Oh, and there was another girl with cellulite on her behind. I could see it from the corner where I was sitting. I excitedly pointed this out to my friends, rather loudly I might add, when all of a sudden I found a hand clamped over my mouth.
Yes, I was able to find something wrong with every dancer in the club. A couple of the girls looked as if they needed to be put out to pasture, and I don’t mean because they were looking too old!
Some of the women looked as if they had bosoms enough to supply an entire nursery. One little girl (I say little only because she was younger and shorter than me) was an acquaintance of male friend No. 1 and was so excited about her newest surgery that she pulled down her stretch-top and ecstatically bounced all around in little circles.
Stupidly, I asked the guys if seeing this much bare skin gets old after a while. They both looked at me as if I was suddenly contagious with a terminal disease!
According to my male friends, this was just another step in furthering my worldly education. I just wonder if my new knowledge will open doors for me.
Nope – I can’t afford the surgery.
www.communicatewithimpact.com
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