Mrs. Blather left me several weeks ago and a buddy took me to Club Diablo in Portland, Oregon to cheer me up. It is no-smoking, so you don’t come home stinking of cigarettes. It’s also vegan which has given it some publicity. The girls are stunning, and they are intersting as well. Some are students, some have day jobs. I’ve been going there way too much and know most of them by name as well as how old they are. what they do outside work, etc.
The club is surprisingly empty some nights, which boggles my mind. Other nights it has a mixture of couples, straight men, lesbians, hipsters, and truck drivers. If you like tits, please check this place out. It’ll break my heart if it closes.
In another thread I am going to suggest it as the site for a DopeFest. They’ll give us 2 for 1 dances if we get a crowd.
A dopefest. At a strip club. That keeps vegan and doesn’t allow smoking. And they are willing to give group discounts on lapdances.
Seriously, if this was within even a couple hours drive I would sooo be there. Just because no one would believe me if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.
Wait, wait, wait, wait! You just blow by “Mrs. Blather left me several weeks ago” and go straight to the part about the strip club?! Did I miss something? What happened? You gotta’ post a couple of megabytes of type about the whole breakup thing before you get to go to any strip clubs!
Yeah, okay, I’m a little jealous. No smoking strip club. Just way too cool.
Came home to a note. It started “Dear Dan, I’m divorcing you”. I didn’t get much further before packing a bag and driving cross country. Nothing like a road trip to let you think. Problems are around me not gaining productive employment for 3 of last 4 years. I started working at “our” store full-time and learned that she considers it “her” store and was dis-appoined in that I had glommed on to the store as a safety-net rather than find a high-paying job like I had before.
She is not entirely without justification, but I feel that the store was more of a joint effort than she is willing to admit. In any case it’s the world’s frendliest divorce so far, and I am asking strippers out on dates (unsuccesfully so far).
FWIW, all of the full nude strip clubs here are, by law, non-smoking. The ones that serve alcohol can allow smoking. Don’t know about vegan, or hipsters, but lesbian patrons are not uncommon. Interesting is in the ear of the beholder, I suspect.
No, stop and don’t. Just, no. It takes a certian kind of man to be able to do something like that, and unless you recently joined the Hells Angels I’d strongly suggest against even thinking about that.
Vegan? What? Does this mean that typical strip clubs serve food or have animal sacrifices? Neither of which I associate with strip clubs. Either way, I’m getting old.
Okay, well, nothing like a bullet to the head to end a marriage, I guess. Gotta’ admire a woman who gets straight to the point.
I have two brothers who have been through two divorces each, and both tell me there’s no such thing as a “friendly” divorce. They say things will get very angry, eventually. But who knows – maybe you’re now free to find that high-paying job she wanted you to have, you can join a biker gang like **Cluricaun ** suggested, *and * end up dating a stripper. Or two. Or three.
I concur with Cluricaun on this one. No. Don’t do this. Go and look, have a friendly chat with them, then say “bye bye” at the end of the evening. I’m sure they are very nice girls, but… No. This is not the correct time for you to be contemplating dating an exotic dancer.
There IS in fact a bad time to “date” an exotic dancer no matter how you mean it Around here we call it “Central Standard Time”. With very few exceptions people who engage in taking of their clothes for money are rather damaged people and, sadly this is the voice of experiance here, hanging around crazy wild hot chicks is fun, dating them or becoming involved with them is fun for about a week. Then it’s a whole lot of fighting, throwing and breaking of things, long visits with John Law, and crazy ex-boyfriends fresh out of the local Maximum Security Prison for the Mentally Disturbed.
Sleeping with strippers is like playing with big time fireworks. They’re fun and they’re pretty when you go see them, but if you take them home and try it yourself you’ll end up missing a finger and having your house burnt down.