What Your Strip Club Behavior Says About You

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What Your Strip Club Behavior Says About You

Some say that you never truly know a person until you drink heavily with them while naked girls grind on you. Actually, I say that, and I think I’m right. The strip club is the new Chili’s, which was the new golf course. It’s where business happens. Because I’m a dude who does business, I know exactly what your shaker club behavior says about you as a human.

First Name Basis

It’s obvious, right? You must go there a lot. But it’s actually much more complicated than that. You not only show up there three times a month, but you spend money that by any financial indicator, you should not be spending. And the worst part of all of this? You’re someone’s sugar daddy. You know exactly what night Jade is working the pole, and you plan your trips accordingly. Even though you know it’s a glaring red flag to fly solo, you’re not above it.

You probably make decent money and are in a dead end relationship that’s not bringing any kind of heat in the bedroom. What you’re doing is wrong, and you probably know that, but you’re a man, dammit. You have needs. And hey, nobody understands you quite like Jade, even though you don’t know her real name.

The Counselor

Well, well, it’s Mr. Intellectual. A true know-it-all in every sense. You took a couple psych courses in undergrad and now you think you’re Dr. Melfi M.D. You’re kind of ashamed to be seen in a joint full of ne’er-do-wells, and the awkwardness of the entire experience is almost too much to handle. Almost.

You’ll hang out and start slow, avoiding whiskey at all costs. But after that first young lady asks if she can have a seat on you, you are in your prime. You agree to a couple dances, then you take things over to the private room trying to not make eye contact with the scum buckets getting violently grinded on. Once you’re there, you make a deep connection with your early-twenties dancer, and you begin to wonder where it all went wrong for her.

“So, how’d you end up here?”

She’s offended at first, but she sees you as a huge source of revenue, so she plays along. She tells you about dropping out, getting her G.E.D., and the college courses she’s thinking about signing up for. At this point, you really think you’re making a difference in this girl’s life, but in reality, she just took you for a quick 2-hundo, and you’re still sitting there with a violent stiffy. She doesn’t wanna be saved dude. She’s probably making more in one night than you will in a month.


“Where’d Jacob go?”

You’ve been there 10 minutes and you’re already in VIP. You have no shame, and for that, we all respect you. While most would cringe at being the guy holding hands with a stripper as you walk to the ATM, you embrace it. Hell, if you weren’t spending so much money, they’d probably ask you to leave because you’re aggressive AF, but money talks.

You were always the life of the party, but now you’re juggling management level responsibilities and a very serious relationship. Your boys don’t see you much, but when they do, you don’t disappoint. That reputation you earned in college for talking up a waitress and taking her home at the end of the night is tough to live up to, but you manage. After a wild night, you’re the guy that’s getting texts from the stripper. You laugh and take screenshots, but you don’t take it any further because you’re not trying to completely fuck your life up. Your boys are wondering how the hell you made that happen, but then they remember you’re a fucking magician.

The “Edgy” Chick Getting Lap Dances

Look at you, cool girl. Sure, you’re a heterosexual babe, but you made-out with your bestie in college one time, so you’ve got a wild side that the world needs to see. Most of your friends are dudes, and you jump at the chance to “get lit” at the booby bar because it’s better than sitting at home. If you’re within an earshot of a good strip club story, you’ll always make sure to tell everyone how much you looove strip clubs. Such a guy’s girl. You probably love sports and will tell anyone that will listen.

When it’s game time, you’re having a blast tossing dollar bills at the girls. You love it, and they love the change of pace a girl like you brings. Hats off, modern woman.

The Denier

“Nah, I’m good” is your default. You’re just there to observe, because you understand what a waste of money this is. That, combined with your wife at home that has a strict no strip clubs policy, is enough to keep you from ruining your life. But it’s not enough to keep the girls from taking swings at you. They’ll stop by and sit in your lap, but it always ends awkwardly as they hop up disappointed. Everybody else in the group will wonder why they invited you because you’re kind of a black hole sucking away all the good vibes.

In the event that you crack and decide to dabble in that which appeals to the prurient interest, it will end badly. Either with you paying for a handski, or you getting into an altercation with the stripper and a bouncer over how much that two-hour dance should cost.

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