Coming home from a pleasant evening with friends tonight and on the drive home I decided to play my “Sexy” playlist on Spotify. Regardless of how unsexy I must have looked dancing and singing in my car on the way home, at least I felt a bit. Then, once home, I started flipping through channels in hopes that something would grab my attention. I stopped on HBO and caught the last 30 minutes of the Magic Mike 2 movie.
I’m going to defend myself here. These were both so so stupid movies. However, those dance scenes where hypnotic. It’s also become a joke with m BFF and I and I’ll tell you a bit of the back story to this now.
When she and I both turned eighteen, we decided to venture into LaBare. Which, for those of you that don’t know, is a strip club for women. We were initially shocked at how insane these women got when the men came out and shook their asses. First, back then, there was no “Magic Mike” dance scenes so it was mostly just gyrating groins on these tall, tan, muscular slick stallions but we were never impressed. While almost all the women would jump up and clamor toward the stage at the first three seconds of “Pour Some Sugar on Me”, we would just be sitting in our chairs and appreciating the music. We’d mostly make friends with the waiters which were almost always better looking so that we could drink before the law abiding age. Now, because we didn’t come off as these crazy females, we’d actually be pretty popular by the end of the night so we ended up making friends with the dancers and managers or whoever. Fast forward a few years and the business that I’m in made it very easy to be invited to a strip club, almost weekly whether it be a male or female one it never mattered.
During this time of frequent stops at these clubs it became such a common experience to show up around 1 am, drink a bit and end up hanging out with everyone till the sun came up. While doing this I soaked in the infinite stripper wisdom and let me tell you something, it was very worth while. Do you know how easy it became to have an actual conversation while sitting either on a man’s lap with only a “c–k sock” on or sitting next to a woman who was topless. After a while you become desensitized to someone actually trying to hit on you for the right reasons because the lessons I’ve learned from both Wall Street sales boys and strippers makes it very easy to just assume everyone is out to get something in their own best interest.
But, I can’t say that I didn’t use what I was taught. The first lesson was eye contact. This is so important for both men and women. But here’s what you do. There’s a point when you know the other person is looking at you, whiling staring at the floor you slowly raise your vision directly into theirs and don’t look away while having a tiny curl of your lip as if it was about to become a devious smile. Hold it as long as you can. I still do that when I’m flirting and it’s never failed.
The next lesson was the touching. All the magazines say you’re supposed to touch a man on his arm, or leg as much as possible to flirt with him or to let him know you’re interested but what they taught me was to take the ring finger on either hand and just lightly run it down a man’s arm, almost as soft as a whisper. That usually works too.
Lastly, was the whisper itself. Now, this goes for any man or woman and especially when someone does this to me. Oh Wow! I’ll go crazy. But you lean in, especially when your out at a club or bar and it’s loud, whisper something, anything, but make it so that your lips graze against their ear and they can feel your breath. Drives me crazy! Did I mention that?
There was a lot of other things they taught all by accident because it was really just me observing a lot but that would turn this post into a rate R so I’ll leave those for another night but I think being around that world and yes, it’s a world all on it’s own, got me so jaded about dating and sex and money. The things that would or should normally turn me on are not the things that do. I usually go for the opposite of what those strippers tried to do because they made it all so fake but humorous never-the-less.
Truth is though, lately, I’ve not really tried any of those tricks or any real type of romantic or sexual serenade. While I crave some sort of intimate human interaction and while it’s easy for me to pull a “booty call number” from my phone it’s all so immature and fake. Maybe I overdid it when I was younger but now i crave something different, something better.
I crave jazz on a Sunday afternoon and cuddling so good that it makes me not want to go to work the next morning. I want something more than a 20 minute bang and then I get up and leave. I want a man that makes me want to stay and makes me want to cook breakfast for him the next day.
My ex (that I work with) and I would do this thing where we’d go to bars and see who could get the most phone numbers from suitors. It was a joke to us. We’d do a lot of stupid shit which would probably make other partners jealous but to us it was fun. But there was this one night, after a strip club, that a guy I’d known had come to the table. I guess my ex got a bit jealous and out of no where he told the guy that we were married. Which we weren’t even close to but it was the first time that I’d seen jealousy in his eyes and it kinda turned me on a lot. There was this guy who was totally secure in almost every way and he was so unsure of himself that he felt like he needed to take ownership of property at that very moment. That was probably one of the best nights of sex for us.
But those are the weird things that turn me on. I don’t want obvious “this is on page 3 of my playbook” moves. Tell me something honest, true, cry about something real, blue, wear the color blue I don’t know why. Bare feet with jeans is so sexy, laughing, looking into my eyes but without the pretense of “hey lets f*ck”. Whisper something to me. Give me a hug that you mean, not a half ass, side hug. Music, music, music. Order for me at a restaurant. Take me somewhere that I’ve never been and surprise me. Give me something of yourself even just for a moment.
My life has certainly made it hard to trust and to date especially when I’m not looking for a “right now” It’s tough. So maybe strippers never really taught me anything but maybe they jaded and ruined me. They did help me read people which I’m pretty good at. They help me understand that attaining perfection is a lie and that appearances don’t matter as much. Do I want the 6ft 3in, dark and handsome guy who sold his soul a long time ago and can’t muster the car note he’s got on his souped up Jaguar even though he makes well over six figures a year? If I wanted that, I’d have had that a long time ago and I can promise you that I would have left that by now. I’d give up the numbers to all those guys for the right guy now who didn’t posses any of that. I’m just not sure I’ve even met him yet.
So long ago were the nights spent with exotic dancers till the sun rose and even though it was fun back then and there’s an occasional fun night out at a club these days where I get to practice my skills I have no desire to go back into that realm. Wow, that felt like a different life ago, a different body ago and just a much different time. I’m not sure if this is growing up or growing old. Man, the stories I could tell.
So that’s my story tonight about a life lived long ago. Hope you’re all having a great weekend. I’m doing nothing for the rest of this weekend, or that’s my plan of no plans.