Strippers

I never liked going to places where there are strippers much less places where there are topless waitresses or barmaids. Why on earth do I want to be tempted and teased by women I’m not allowed to touch? That just doesn’t make sense to me. Don’t get me wrong, no one appreciates the beauty of the female form any more than I do. But choosing to go into a setting where gorgeous women are employed to tease me into a heat-seeking tizzy is a concept I find baffling.  Especially when I’m expected to pay them!

Let me see if I understand this. You tease me, I can’t touch you, and I’m supposed to pay you? You must be joking. You should be paying me.

Let’s review the logic of all this. The stripper, exotic dancer, wearing little if anything at all, is going to writhe and grind and slither around a pole and, if I’m lucky (lucky?!!), she’ll give me a lap dance bringing all of what the lower regions of now piston-Pete are aching for within inches and not only am I not allowed to touch her,  I’m supposed to give her my money?

I am utterly baffled by any man who thinks, Man, you know what, think I’ll go to a place, get teased by a woman so gorgeous and salacious she could melt a glacier on sight, let her arouse me until I’m nearly out of my mind and then I’ll give her my money!

All of this brings to mind the H.L. Mencken quote, something to the effect of, No one ever lost money underestimating the intelligence of the American people.

 

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