“Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world. I want to be the one to walk in the sun. Oh, girls, they wanna have fun. Oh, girls just wanna have fun.”
— Cyndi Lauper, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
So I didn’t go to Girls’ Night Out. I went out with the boys. I had never been to a “Gentlemen’s Club” before. I didn’t know what to expect. I thought there’d be sex in the hallways and drugs and Joe Pesci beating some guy in the corner and beer bongs and such. I know girlfriends/fiancees/wives who tremble at the two words “Bachelor Party.” Images of Tom Hanks and sheep pop into their heads, along with the Jerry Springer episode of the men having the bachelor party in front of the bride-to-be, enjoying every second of touching another woman with America’s approval. I, too, was against the concept of Bachelor Parties being a “Rite of Passage” for all men… the last hurrah as a single man. The last time you are allowed to stray from your new Ball and Chain. My view of these parties has changed. The emphasis is on the word Party. It’s another drinking party with a bit of sex thrown in for fun and teasing.
The reason I was so pissed about what happens at Bachelor Parties is it always seems like more fun than Bachelorette Parties. If you happen to go see male strippers at a club, it just isn’t the same experience. First of all, the men are never really that attractive. They are older, and so muscular that their bodies become a joke. They act like they control you, and that they are sexier and prettier than you are. The music is stupid. No one wants to see someone grind to Bon Jovi or AC/DC. The men are greasy and cold. Inevitably, it becomes a case of “which girl is going to touch that guy” and the women are squealing and daring each other to touch that thing. The same effect could be made by putting a dissected frog on stage…it’s just as cold and slimy and attractive, and we’d still just dare each other to touch it. Except the frog won’t touch back and force our heads into their crotches. It’s embarrassing, and not sexy at all. Bachelor Parties seem to be one big sex fest, and they get to listen to L.L. Cool J and Prodigy. Not fair. I want a Ladies Club where the men are sexy and you want to spend your money.
So now I’ve done both. And the Gentlemen’s Club experience is so much better. I’m going to tell you what goes on at these parties, in case you have never, or will never experience one of these first hand. Here we go.
I went to this party to find out what the big deal is. Why men like to go. Is it just titties? Is it the taboo of touching other women? Or is it getting together with your closest friends to send someone off in one final night of wild living? I went with the decision that I was not going to make anyone conscious of the fact that there was a girl there. I didn’t want to hinder anyone’s good time. I didn’t want to be the one mistake of the night.
The Rules There are some rules involved, and the first rule is what is making this entry so hard to write. What happens at these parties is sacred and not to be shared with anyone else. Because of this, I will only write what happened to me, and how it affected me. Everyone else will be left out, as it is the right thing to do, and since I was invited along, I’m keeping my promise with the others. Not that anything heinous went on, but if someone reads this that knows someone who went to this, the last thing I want is to be told I can’t go next time, because I’ll tell the world (literally).
I believe that No Touching is a rule there. That didn’t really happen, but I’ll explain later.
Everyone buys that bachelor dances and drinks. The bachelor never has to dig into his wallet for anything he wants that night. The Best Man is in charge of making sure that the Bachelor is getting everything he wants.
Everyone else is supposed to get really drunk and act like fools.
I was not the only woman at the club. I was the only woman in our party. But there were less than five other women in the house. The other women guests mostly stayed in their seats.
The dancers are very pretty. They are very limber. They smell good. And man, are they soft. There’s this powder that they put on themselves…if only the Ladies’ Club men would get in on this act…they may get more money. Scent is very important, and softness… well, you can’t beat that.
The women have an attitude on the stage. They are either very bored or very sassy. I preferred the sassy ones to the flippant ones. I mean, they should at least act like they are happy to see us, right?
There are different reasons men go to these establishments. We were there for the right reasons. But some men are there merely to feel like they are getting lucky. The funny thing is those men never look like they are really having a good time. It’s like they are at a grocery store, going down their checklist to see if they got enough Asian Titties, enough Catholic Schoolgirl Thighs, enough Baby Doll Blonde Ass Cheeks… seems rather boring to me to just make sure you touch every naked woman there.
Men come with other men, men come by themselves, and men come with a woman. The men in packs are the most boisterous. They look like they are having the most fun.
Now, first let me say I wasn’t nervous until we were about to turn into the club. Then I thought maybe I was making a mistake and that I was about to ruin my friend’s Bachelor Party experience. Was I going to make the other men uncomfortable and not want to have the normal party? Did they think I was going to rat on them or exaggerate the stories to make my night sound more deviant? Or, quite simply, was I going to make them feel guilty?
I wasn’t nervous after we had taken our seats. There wasn’t as much nudity as I thought. There were three stages with women on them, and they were set up around the club. There were a couple of bars, and I heard a rumor that there was a Black Jack table, but I never saw one.
The first thing I did was use a restroom, where I was washing my hands next to a mostly naked woman who was counting her money for the night. We had a pleasant conversation about hand soap. There were three stalls in the room, and they were filthy and covered in graffiti. None of the toilets flushed. I went back to the guys and told them about it and they were surprised, because their bathroom had a bathroom attendant and a shoe shine guy. Equality of the sexes, it wasn’t. So I had my boyfriend steal me mints from his restroom all night.
Oh yeah, I went with my boyfriend. So at first he was getting teased that he wasn’t allowed to have any fun tonight, and they were teasing me that I cannot hold anything against him or get mad or jealous.
And then I went up to have my first dance with the lady on the stage.
I’m not exactly sure what happened… but somehow I became a bit of a star. I’m wearing all the clothes, but people were giving me money to go up and get dances instead of them. And it was a blast. The dancers were having a good time, too, because they could play around with me more (they had a good time rubbing their heads on my chest and making it look like they were making out with me by covering my head with their hair.) They would laugh and talk to me and ask if I was with the large table of whooping guys. I got to experience the attention that a dancer gets without actually taking my clothes off. What I didn’t realize was that every time I went up to get a dance (it only costs a dollar, which I find amazingly cheap), all the men in the room were watching us. I started going up with my friends so we could have group dances, etc. and it was so silly that I was just laughing the whole time.
A man came up to me and asked me if I could “help him with his wife.” Apparently it was her idea for the two of them to go, but when she got there she got shy, and he said I looked like I was having a good time, and he wanted her to see how painless and fun it is. It was fun until the guy came around the third time asking me, and then the whole table got a little creeped out.
Some women kept up the act the whole time, dancing with me and touching me and such… and there were some women that I actually started thinking liked me. I realize that that’s what a lot of men probably start thinking as well, “Hey, she really likes me. I mean the real me. She sees who I really am.” Silly, but these girls are very good actresses. And they look like they are having fun, and they are having fun with you, and remember what I said before about them being soft and smelling good.
The Table Dance
(aka Lap Dance)
So it was decided that I was getting a lap dance. After paying for a few at the table, the novelty was wearing off. It was the end of the night, and everyone was just about broke. What could top the evening? Some seriousgirl-on-girl action… you can’t beat that for $25.
First let me say that I missed the Beastie Boys concert that night, and I was a little bummed out, since I’m sure they won’t be around for a while.
So this girl is picked for me, and she’s sitting on my lap talking about school and dancing and where she used to work and such (another difference from Ladies’ Clubs… I never saw Male Strippers talk to anyone). In mid conversation the song started and she got off my lap and started dancing… which was more of a jolt to me than anything else… but then I heard the song. “Intergalactic” by the Beastie Boys. I was getting my concert after all.
It was fun. I got to play the exhibitionist. I got to give the Bachelor a send-off in a way that the other boys just couldn’t. I got to make the evening unforgettable, and I had a great time. She’s talking to me the whole time, which was a little weird, but I think she realized that I was looking into her eyes and not at her ass, and she felt compelled to talk. I didn’t mind the conversation.
I’m so much shorter than anyone else in that bar. All the dancers towered over me, and I’m looking like I’m twelve, but I’m feeling kind of sexy because I’m getting all this attention, and then my dorkiness came through. She misjudged my height, because I’m probably six inches shorter than her average clientele, and she kicked me in the face with her platform shoe. We had an awkward apologetic moment together, and then she kept going. I can’t even be a sexpot right.
What I noticed different about our party is that although we were looking around, we were still talking to each other and having a good time. We were joking about the Bachelor getting married, and we were comparing women and their various talents/merits and such. But after you are there for about two hours it changes a little. You stop noticing that the women are topless, and you start looking for clothing to entice you a little. People are sitting around chatting with topless women and no one seems to care. I saw a man getting a lap dance and when she had her back to him she was yawning, and he was checking his watch. I saw another man getting a lap dance, but watching the lap dance behind him rather than the girl in his lap. They eye starts looking for something, anything new, and eventually all novelty is worn off, and you’re ready to go home and have some cheap beer.I had always though of Bachelor Parties as an excuse to mess around on your significant other. I thought they were painful and cheap. What I learned the other night is that when they are done correctly, it is merely a way of throwing the ultimate party for the bachelor. To tell him what an incredible friend he is, and to celebrate the fact that his marriage is tomorrow. We don’t want him to go home with these women, but we want him to feel loved by these women… well, not so much loved, but attractive. That his life is not ending (although that’s what gets shouted a bit, “You’ll never have this again.”). That the act of settling down with a woman does not mean that all sexuality is over. The Bachelor Party affirms that although the Bachelor is about to be a husband, it does not make him any less of a man.
So I had a blast. I was crowned “Best Woman” alongside the Best Man. I had a good time being “One of the Guys.” My boyfriend joked that I got to see the Inner Sanctum. I was honored to be invited. And what I saw wasn’t as scary as everyone made it out to be. I’m willing to try anything once. And the crew I was with will probably make sure it isn’t my last.