Who took the sex out of the stripclubs – or was it ever there?
Last night a bunch of us from the neighborhood went to support a friend who has taken the position of marketing director for a gentlemen’s club in the Quarter. All of the hospitality directors from around the area were invited to attend. We went – us not in hospitality – to offer a show of numbers and support to our friend. A friend bought me a lapdance with a gorgeous woman – as she came close to me, she whispered in my ear that she loved my headband – it’s a great headband – I just got it in New York – it’s silver chains. Then another gorgeous woman called me to the stage to ask me about my purse – she loved it – it’s one of my favs. Then the original woman came back to show me pics of a chihuahua her friend – who happened to be on stage at that moment – had rescued – they had gone to ChiWaWaGaGa in the Quarter and outfitted the little dog with lots of costumes and taken photos with their camera phone.
I don’t know, but I came away from the evening thinking there didn’t seem to be anything sexual about this sex palace. Like the emperor has no clothes. Maybe it was because I felt like I was in the girl’s locker room and was just chit chatting about accessories and pets – the norm – but I couldn’t imagine being a guy and getting something out of the experience. I worried it was me but the more I thought about it the more I believe there is no sex at strip clubs – only a fantasy or an illusion of sex that you have to try very hard to bring to mind – perhaps with the requisite alcohol and a vivid imagination it seems like sex to some – and a couple of bare breast shots and there you go – but it was disconcerting – is that all some men want? – is simply the idea of sex not the reality enough?