The whole time i’ve writing this hilarious night i’ve really pondered if this should actually go up. I think censorship is one of the worst things, next to SUV’s, that this world has been plagued with. Self censorship is the worst version of censorship because you can actually take steps to avoid it.
I wanted to accurately portray this evening because quite honestly, it’s pretty fucked up. I want to be able to read this post years from now, when i’m laying in my hospital bed, tubes all up in my shit, looking really pathetic and dying. I’ll reach over to my laptop, read this fucked up update and watch my artificial liver machine start to smoke.
After last night’s update, you can tell i was hungover when i woke this morning. Not the “I need some water and some asprin” hangover. More like a “My body is not accepting food anymore” kind of hangover. I eat part of a $5 steak at Neils and a sandwich trying desparetely to force protein into my body. I really don’t want to drink.
We pick Ken up, we pick a bottle of vodka up and we roll into Platinum. Carded at the door, big surprise, i buy a beer. Beer is okay, beer won’t get me drunk, i’m only getting one.
I walk in and smile. A smoke filled room with numerous, half naked, fully naked, almost naked, beautiful girls. It’s like F:pr0n came to life. We sit down, my beer is emptied, and i suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I’m enjoying the show on stage when i suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn and see a smiling face next to me. My mind scans, i don’t recognize her and i’m terribly confused.
Stripper: How’s a lapdance sound?
Toad: Umm, not yet, havn’t even had my first drink.
It all makes sense now.
A gaggle of strippers soon arrive and at one point we all had one sitting on our laps drinking our vodka. This is because Ken, who is apparently a god in this place since he was a bouncer there many years ago. Ken describes himself as a stripper groupie. I wish i could have snuck my camera in cuz i’d really like to have a picture of him. Imagine Kid Rock, but with more piercings, more tattoos and doesn’t suck.
Well, after being there about a hour and telling 3 girls that i didn’t want a lapdance, Ian and Ken purchase one for me. This girl in a chain mail shirt that had been drinking with us, stands up, takes this leather belt and cracks it. She points at me, says “Follow me now, bitch”. I follow her to the “VIP Room” a poorly lit room full of couches and other strippers giving other guys dances. I sit down and the games begin.
I walk out with her probably 2 songs later with a huge grin on my face. I sit down at our table, pour a stiff drink and thank Ian and Ken for my first lapdance. I decided at that point that i can never return to this place again. So I better spend a lot of money and really enjoy myself because this is it. I go to the ATM.
After a stop at the ATM, i couldn’t resist this next girl. Beautiful blonde, dressed in this strange black bathing suit kinda thing. She asks me if i would like a dance. I look her up and down, smile and say “Yes, yes i would”. Back to the VIP room. We sit and talk for a few minutes, she tells me she’s really into computers too, i pretend like i care and then leave 2 songs later i’m back at the table drinking.
It was around 1am, poor little owned Chad leaves and the vodka starts to really own me. I also noticed a change in the strippers as the night wore on. Strippers, like a lot of people *cough*webdesigners*cough* drink a lot and tend to say more fucked up shit as the night goes on.
I’m casually drinking, watching yet another beautiful girl dance around naked on stage when this crazy looking blonde girl with pigtails. She walks up to me, whispers how many genital piercings she has and then asks if i’d like to see them. Fuck yeah i do.
Well, i was convinced into getting one last dance from this beautiful girl that had been sitting with us all night. I walk to the bathroom and get intercepted. This beautiful, probably 6’7 black girl starts talking to me at the bar. After whispering a bunch of shit about chocolate cupcakes, chocolate pudding and other chocolate based food, lapdance #4 starts.
Since I was just going to the bathroom Ian and Ken start to wondering what the fuck happened to me. Ken asks the bouncers if they killed out a dirty looking short guy. They finally see me walking out with her and they’re all like “OH FUCK! ONYX GOT A HOLD OF HIM!” I sit down and their like “dude did she hurt you?” and i’m like “fuck yeah she did!” I swear to god, i’m going to name my first daughter after her.
After Onyx, none of the other girls were really that cute and it was getting late. Then Ian taps me on the shoulder and points to this girl on stage. I look and i see these weird red blotches in her….umm….holy area. We all recoil in horror at the black plague that has infected this poor girl and we’re all reminded where we are.
The night isn’t over.
Ian and i sit in the car and wait for Ken to finish finding out where his stripper friends were going after work, hehe. We watch a cocktail waitress and a smiling black man get into what looked like her car. Then her head seems to disappear into his lap. I guess she dropped something cuz she was down there for a while. Ian and I start laughing hysterically since this is happening about 5 yards from where we’re parked. She looks up, looks embarassed, starts her car, and drives across the street to finish the deed.
I looked over to Ian and said “I hope their using condoms” and Ian says “I don’t think they are.” They probably weren’t.
Ian and Ken drop me off, i go inside, finish my $5 Neils steak in silence after the hottest, most cleansing shower i’ve ever taken. The moral of last night is that strip clubs, just like hard drugs, should be experimented in extreme amounts and then never again.
So Onyx, even tho i promised you i would return, i must say goodbye.