Thursday, May 7, 2009
Gonna Spread My Wings, Sweet 26...Part II
The stunning conclusion to Lil'Jimmy's 26th birthday party with the boys from T-fly...
On the walk to the strip club, we were all brimming with anticipation and jumping all over each other like little retard children off to the dairy farm. Milk! they yell. Funny how hanging out with your old middle school friends can devolve you right back into adolescence. We were cracking jokes without punchlines and laughing way too loud at them.
We got to the strip club and because I’m a Jew I informed the lady at the door that we were celebrating and could she help with the cover charge? I would be comped but my three friends would have to pay twenty each to get in. Inside it was couches and velour seating with hip-hop and techno music blasting and lights that flash red, blue and white sometimes. Girls on platforms dancing around poles, girls bouncing around in skimpy lingerie and talking to wide-eyed guys everywhere.
It was crowded, almost no space at any of the couches and the extremely large Doorman- Host had to help move a little guy with those arm-crutches to another area just so we could get good seats. Sorry dude. He would have killed the buzz anyway. Or made it more fun. I went to take a piss.
When I got back I saw that we were all beginning to sink into the pool of delusion so common in the strip clubs. Kyle was the first to go under, but at least he tried with a waitress rather than a stripper. I eased into my seat. The waitress Kyle was chatting with had huge tits in a black bustier. He was talking passionately about electronic music, and she seemed to be responding in a friendly way. She was far more beautiful than any of the strippers there – did he really think he could pull it off? He gave her his number and looked satisfied. “Dude now I feel like I can’t get any dances with her watching!” he exclaimed when she walked off to get our drinks. But he did get dances, many dances, and would glance around nervously after each one. Kyle looked over at me and told me again that he loves big asses in his face. I agreed with him. And I was stopping any creature with decent-sized natural breasts for a dance. I hate fake breasts, they are just awkward plastic orbs attached under a girl’s skin. Gross. Then this tall stripper Danielle with ridiculously huge fake breasts sat next to me. I told her we were there for my birthday and she was telling me about how she’s such a pothead and next week for her birthday she’s just going to get stoned. And I told her how I’m a stoner too. Which is a lie I quit two months ago. I told her I’m a writer of fiction and non-fiction, which is a lie this is the first thing I’ve written in over a year. “I love non-fiction!” she said excitedly, “I love Hemingway,” she continued and I could not stop laughing. But Danielle asked if I’d buy her a redbull and hell, why not? So she was still sitting with me when I saw Leo go down.
Leo disappeared with a petite skinny stripper with long blonde hair and tiny breasts. Did he purchase a hand-job in the back? Oh wait, there he was the bar, buying her drinks. He would eventually get just five minutes of dances from her and walked out broke at the end of the night. “Two hundred bucks dude, she got it all!” he said and showed us the empty wallet. “I asked her for her number and she said it would be prostitution!” He was flailing his arms madly. “She played me,” he said. Poor Leo.
And Ted, oh Ted. His final dance was with this large black woman with boobs so large and saggy her nipples were pointing to the floor. She writhed all over him for fifteen minutes and the whole time his face was in a state of ecstatic shock, for a total of eighty bucks. After she left he was saying “Dude she was so wet I could feel her through my jeans and she said Mind if I just get off on your leg?” And the guys were all impressed. “Dude, you could have fucked her!” Kyle said, pleased. I agreed with Kyle on this as well but I was thinking, is it a point of pride tonight that a woman would allow one of us to pay her for sex? My friends had all gotten drenched in that stagnant pool of pathetic stupidity, thinking somehow that they could get dates from these strippers. Idiots. I remember sitting with Danielle, with her stupid fake breasts while she said dumb things and I smiled at her. “So Danielle,” I had said, “you wanna go out sometime?”