My only experience of male strippers is from when I was a teenager in Sydney and I took my best friend Emma Collins (all gangly limbs, glasses and braces on her teeth) to see the Chippendales for her 16th birthday.
It was at an RSL club in a redneck-surfy suburb way up along the northern beaches, and the room was predictably full of screeching hen's parties. Emma and I got drunk on bourbon and cokes. The strip-show was pretty forgettable.
Afterwards we went to our regular haunt, Fj's in Collaroy, where we ran into some guys we knew. Not much was happening at Fj's either so we decided to catch a ride with these guys down to Manly.
The driver took a shine to me and insisted I sat up front with him, which I didn't mind at all 'cos the other option was in the back of his panel-van (fucktruck) with a load of harmless but drunken boys. So being the considerate friend I was I let Emma go in the back.
We cruised through the Northern Beach suburbs, our driver showing off his skills. We sped through Harbord, and as we went up the hill the driver sped up, displaying his prowess. All the boys and Emma in the back lurched toward the back doors, and they flew open.
Immediately the driver stopped, one of the guys jumped out of the back, pulled him out of the drivers seat and started jerking him back and forth, yelling drunkenly.
I was sitting there in front, quite unsure of what had happened. I said "Whoa there, that's our driver..." and then thought to turn round... "Em... Em??"
Luckily Emma and I were sporting a rocker style at that point in our lives, so as she flew out of the back of the panelvan and rolled down the hill it was her biker's leather jacket that took most of the impact.
I found her still rolling, and as she stopped the first thing she did was reach for her liptstick. She jumped up and started hailing a cab. She was shaken but ok. I was pretty freaked myself. After seeing she was ok I let her get in a cab, and ran home. Some birthday present.
It was at an RSL club in a redneck-surfy suburb way up along the northern beaches, and the room was predictably full of screeching hen's parties. Emma and I got drunk on bourbon and cokes. The strip-show was pretty forgettable.
Afterwards we went to our regular haunt, Fj's in Collaroy, where we ran into some guys we knew. Not much was happening at Fj's either so we decided to catch a ride with these guys down to Manly.
The driver took a shine to me and insisted I sat up front with him, which I didn't mind at all 'cos the other option was in the back of his panel-van (fucktruck) with a load of harmless but drunken boys. So being the considerate friend I was I let Emma go in the back.
We cruised through the Northern Beach suburbs, our driver showing off his skills. We sped through Harbord, and as we went up the hill the driver sped up, displaying his prowess. All the boys and Emma in the back lurched toward the back doors, and they flew open.
Immediately the driver stopped, one of the guys jumped out of the back, pulled him out of the drivers seat and started jerking him back and forth, yelling drunkenly.
I was sitting there in front, quite unsure of what had happened. I said "Whoa there, that's our driver..." and then thought to turn round... "Em... Em??"
Luckily Emma and I were sporting a rocker style at that point in our lives, so as she flew out of the back of the panelvan and rolled down the hill it was her biker's leather jacket that took most of the impact.
I found her still rolling, and as she stopped the first thing she did was reach for her liptstick. She jumped up and started hailing a cab. She was shaken but ok. I was pretty freaked myself. After seeing she was ok I let her get in a cab, and ran home. Some birthday present.