nsfw, or "why i don't write porn"

What you are about to read is no "Fifty Shades of Gray."  It's not even decent literature (I state that separately because "Fifty" isn't either.  Obviously.)  No, what you are about to read is my account of a night out with my friend Fedora- a night that involved a "male revue" and SHOULD have involved more sangria.  Lots.  More.  Sangria.

Fedora is my girlfriend who dragged me by my ear out to see the guy-stripper-movie "Magic Mike."  I spent half the movie in embarrassed giggles with my fingers over my eyes.  Because I'm 30 and mature and all.  Since that night out was such a raging success, I apparently was the first person to pop into her head when she was invited out to a bar in Heathrow to see this "first ever amateur male revue."  First ever?  Amateur?  Sure, what WOULDN'T be awesome about that?  So I dolled myself up, thinking hey, it'll be good for a laugh.  I can sit in back, cover my eyes when appropriate, and watch the crowd.  I wore my pink dress I found on clearance for $5 at H&M, pink hoops, pink purse, and spiky heeled sandals.  Add on top my berry lipstick and Barbie was ready to hit the town.

When Fedora and I arrived at the bar, we made our way to the back and I discovered there was no seating...no, all the girls were sort of circled along the wall in a small area, surrounding a chair in the middle of the floor.  The only thing I could think of was how much my feet were going to hurt by the end of the night.  The music started pumping, light started flashing, a woman shouted a few things into a microphone, and Guy #1 took the floor.

Shit, he was like 4 inches shorter than me.  What sort of circus act was this???

The whoops and hollers of all the girls surrounding the floor started immediately; I just covered my face and giggled.  Guy #1 strutted around, eventually stripping off his shirt, teasing the squealing crowd by running his hands into the waist band of his basketball shorts.  (Yes, you read that right.  Basketball shorts.  And I'm thinking, "He's too damn short to play basketball")  He eventually got a cheer from Team Maggie when he did a backflip, but he followed it up by going facedown on the floor and sort of gyrating his hips around...you know, like he was, uh, "doin' it" with the floor.  He pulled a girl out of the crowd, sat her in the chair, and proceeded to give her what I guess would qualify as a lap dance?  Use your imagination.  A couple girls made it into the hot seat that round- some were embarrassed, some were about to rip his underwear off.  Which happened to be grey boxer briefs.  (Insert sarcastic "ooooooo" here).  

Guy #2 came out next, and shortly rid himself of his white t-shirt and performed all sorts of dirty acts with the floor while wearing faded blue jeans.  He made his rounds, girls tucked dollar bills into his waistband, and he came up to me where I was trying to hide behind the standing speaker.

Muthafucka humped my leg! 

 I was backed against the wall so all I could do was stare in shock as he rubbed his crotch over my right knee.  Now, I've been out to clubs before and encountered some very inappropriate people.  But I've either been too drunk to care or, that one time, where I threw my drink at one.  Guy #2 fortunately chose a different victim to pull into the chair to get the too-up-close-and-personal experience.  He ended his show writhing around on the floor again, and I'm pretty sure he did a complete split.  The music continued to pound, girls continued to scream, and someone shoved a fistfull of dollar bills at me.  Fedora shouted, "Come on!" and grabbed my hand, leading me over to him.  She tucked her money into his pants, so I did the same- the crowd was closing in, I couldn't see where I was going, and I tried to not get in the line of fire of a wayward hip thrust.    

The night proceeded pretty much like that, with a break after about an hour.  When the show started back up again, I found a bar chair to sit in because indeed my feet were killing me.  One of the guys came out for an encore and before I knew it, I was in his arms, up in the air, and plunked down into the chair.  I heard the screams, I saw the cameras flash, I heard the music pulsing, I saw Fedora out of the corner of my eyes jumping up and down, and I tried to not completely expose myself while I was being flipped around.  My hands gripped the sides of the chair and I leaned back and this guy knelt over me with his knees on the arms of the chair.  He slid his belt out of his pant loops, snapped it tight, then brought it around the back of my neck, pulling my head down.  I saw more cameras flash and he thrust his junk right into my face.  8 times, it bumped my nose.  I was counting.  He spun around and stuck his butt in my face- all I remember is gripping the arms of the chair so tight my fingers cramped, and I'm pretty sure I had the look of abject horror on my face.  Then I saw the camera go again so I figured I'd try to smile and take a half-decent picture.  Finally, I was relieved of the chair, safe to go back to my barstool.  I wobbled back over and Fedora lept up from her spot and out on to the floor to have her turn.  I tried to pat down my hair and catch my breath.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I think I got my very first lap dance.  And if it never happens again, that will be too soon.

The show ended shortly after that.  The music kept pounding, enticing a few people out to the dance floor for normal operations, but I was exhausted.  I headed home to take a scalding hot shower because, come on, I felt so dirty I couldn't even make it out of the parking lot without squeezing out a half-dollar sized blob of hand sanitizer.  Still, this was one (pretty unnecessary) life experience I can check off the list.  Hopefully the nightmares will stop soon.