Megan Hart

So if you’ve been paying attention, I bemoaned the lack of Superman stripper for my birthday. Well, last night, I got him. My sister

hooked me up with free tickets to see The Chippendales, for free!

So, I’m going to flat out say it. I love strippers. But as far as my stripper experiences (and they have been LEGION) go, this show…wow. I think I’m scarred for life.

First off, don’t open the doors and cram us into a tiny nightclub and make us wait, for, I kid you not, almost TWO HOURS for the clothes to start coming off. Yeah. Those boys had to hawk their t-shirts and DVD’s and raffle tickets, and I do believe they were told “you don’t get to get off that stage pimping your abs until they’re all gone,” because by-gum, they really didn’t. Sorry, even though I didn’t pay to get in, I don’t want to pay $20 for a “BVD” or a t-shirt, until I’ve seen some PANTS OFF.

I was cranky. I mean look, I’m not there to hear singing or lame jokes. Get up on the stage and dance your PANTS.OFF.

So when they finally started dancing, though it, was good.

I mean good as in it was no more than I was expecting. Unfortunately, because there were no seats, everyone had to stand, and unless you were in the front row you couldn’t see very much.

This was us BEFORE we realized the pants were going to take forever to come off.

Smith was having a heavenly vision.

So finally the dancing started, and it was pretty good, from what I could see, though apparently there was bumping and writhing on the floor, which, you know. I couldn’t see. Whatever. THEN they started something called the HOT SEAT (ladies, okay? ladies! — the announcer kept saying it over and over and over and over and over and then one more time) where you paid ten bucks and got to sit in a chair on stage while dancers allegedly writhed around you (but you couldn’t touch them.)

I am not used to being ignored by strippers, particularly when I’ve paid ten bucks to sit in a chair and have them writhe around me. I was ignored! The horror! But then I got some ass shook sort of in the direction of my face, and that was…well…I’m scarred. Seriously. I am ALL ABOUT ass shaking, but…I’m scarred.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Those boys worked HARD. They were SWEATING. And I’m sure it can’t be *fun* to shake your ass in front of screaming women for ten bucks, but seriously… after the merch pimping and the constant interruptions of the show to hawk MORE extra cash-needed things like the hot seat? So. Not. Sexy.

PANTS. OFF.

Oh, let me back up. There was one guy, very tall, very…erm…shell-shocked, who must be new, or the mascot, or just the guy who carries the luggage, because he wasn’t really allowed up on stage to dance, he just got to gather the clothes when they were done tearing them away.

And there was one guy who did a think with a Superman shirt on, and trust me, you won’t be able to tell by the picture, but it was hot. Because Superman is hot.

So anyway, there was more hot seating it and finally at the end my friends got to hot seat it and it looked like it was worth THEIR ten bucks. So. Good!

Oh, and of course there was also Ellora’s Cave’s own: Bobby K who looked really familiar and thank goodness it was because he’s been on book covers, because otherwise…that might have been embarrassing! HAHA.

So afterwards we got our picture taken with them and Nat and I got to sit on Superman’s lap and I have to get a copy of THAT picture. And how nice, he slapped my ass when I got up. Which made me laugh, because, um, yeah, I don’t mind a pat on the ass, but spank it and I want to turn around, pull you by the hair and put you on your knees, because I am the spank-ER not the spank -EEE but well, it was okay because I guess the “ladies, okay” like to get their asses spanked and it was all in good fun.

But after THAT, well, then those boys came out to circulate and mingle and sign their shizz and take pictures with the “ladies, m’kay?” and THAT was worth ten bucks NO QUESTION.

On a side note: ass patting, ok. Ass spanking, meh. ASS POKING!? NO. No, no, NO, no thank you. That’s all I’m saying.

I did have a really, really good time, even if, as far as strip shows go, it totally was the worst, but I’ve been spoiled, really spoiled by my past experiences. I’m not knocking the Chippendales, mind you, the guys were cute and they worked hard, but really. C’mon. Start the show on time, make sure everyone can SEE and don’t pimp so much shit. I’d have spent more money tucking dollar bills into g-strings than I did by refusing to pay for t-shirts and crap.

But, that was my night.

M

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