Another From the Vaults... (04/16/99)

(The following takes places when I was living with my old friend, Bill Barnett, who was kind enough to not only let me move into his one-bedroom apartment with him when I had no where else to go, but also taught me to be a copywriter and got me a job at WOWL/WHDF-TV. This particular anecdote is about going to a strip club with "the guys" and what an eye-opener it turned out to be for me.)

April 16th

Slept late. Odd dreams again. Got the called from [WOWL-TV Production Manager] David Yancey at noon today. I'm FINALLY HIRED!! That's right, after two weeks of frustration, I start this coming Monday. Admittedly, it's only part time to start, and It'll be minimum wage ... but it's a place to start. My foot will be in the proverbial door at last.

As I'm so fond of saying: one step at a time.

(5:00 that afternoon)

Bill called to ask if I wanted to have dinner with him and Keith Davis [a salesman at the station.] As I understand it, the plan is to have steak and then go to a strip club in Huntsville. (Maybe 'Visions'?) I'll hold off closing today's entry until I get back from this little outing...

(11:00 that night)

Well, all-in-all, I had a very nice evening. Bill, Keith Davis, Luther [station cameraman], and I wound up going to 'Visions' in Huntsville, where I blew about 9 of the $15 I walked in with. I'm very proud to say that *I* spent NO money on women, only on the cover charge and a drink. Bill and Keith played Daddy Warbucks with the 'dancers' while Luther and I (much amused) looked on, greatly amused.

Sad to say, but I liken the whole event to getting drunk: do it once to see what it's like, then do it again later to make sure you didn't miss anything. Then you make a decision as to whether you'll ever do it again. I have. I won't be going back to any more strip clubs.

Simply put: to me, it was vulgar. I mean, I understood what the place was going in and I enjoy the naked female form as much or more than most guys. But there was no love nor warmth in that place. Only ... greed. And smoke. (Did I mention the smoke? LOTS of smoke!) Call me naive if you must, but why would a sensible man go to a place where he was neither welcome nor appreciated for his company? Oh sure, they were glad to see you, as long as you had money to burn. What kind of environment is that? Why throw your hard-earned money at something you can't have? What do you gain?

These women were, for the most part, attractive and sexy but their eyes haunt me. I know a great many women love to be 'exotic dancers' and not only find it empowering and heady, but make quite a nice living off it. (I know for a fact that some of the dancers at Atlanta's 'Cheetah 3' drive Porsche's and other high-end cars.) But the eyes of these women were dead. No mirth, no enjoyment, no ... LIFE was echoed in their eyes. When they were on stage their little eyes shone like cocaine on an ebony table and that's how they make their money. But, once they come offstage their eyes were flat and listless again. It was almost like a self-preservation technique. And, I guess for a lot of them it is. I would suppose that way they don't have to open up to what they don't want to see.

I don't mean to sound all melodramatic, but I felt ... dirty when I left that place, and it wasn't just from the smoke. I wanted to get home and take a bath, to somehow make amends for being a witness to all that debauchery. Strangest of all, I felt an overwhelming desire to apologize to someone. (NO, not my Mom and Dad.) But to women in general. Bizarre, I know, but the desire for atonement was amazingly strong.

I did enjoy the company of Bill and my co-workers, let me hasten to add THAT. They were a lot of fun and made my night enjoyable: Bill, sitting ringside and all but folding dollar bills into origami shapes for the dancers, Luther, sitting at our table with his arms folded as if daring the place to impress him, scowling and occasionally muttering his catchphrase, 'Shit. Sucks.' (He did smile one time after I bought him a beer.) Then there was Keith. Sweaty Keith, with his comb-over and his clip on tie draped sadly partway across his bulging stomach. Keith seemed to know most of the women (servers too!) by name. Sad really how much Keith enjoyed himself.

Okay, lest I pontificate overly much, I'll close here for tonight.