Welcome to your typical dodgy Auckland strip joint; home to sleazy, lonesome men with bad intentions and young girls with Daddy issues.
This dismal environment is known for its recognizable scent of sweat, bourbon and cheap perfume. The club is usually pumping terrible tunes, for example, Don’t Cha by The Pussy Cat Dolls And if I have to hear one more Justin Bieber song, I think I might be sick. But hey, when there’s nothing else open at 3am on a Sunday, your date’s ditched you for the next best thing and you’ve left your dignity at the last club two hours ago, this is the place to be.
If you look to your left, ladies and gentlemen, you will notice a common stripclub species: the male. There are many breeds of male who are naturally drawn to clubs like these. Examples of these beasts are as follows;
The Attention Whore Usually seen “just out with the boys” for post-game drinks, this male comes across as confident; the “alpha male,” if you will. He is easy to spot by the way he yells, “Tits out for the boys!” at passing waitresses and attempts to outdrink his fellow competitors. Typical Attention Whores wear formal suits to strip clubs, with unbuttoned shirts and loose ties for the “I just had sex” look. However, as we all know, he is guaranteed to have the smallest dick in the building. My most hated Attention Whore line, and I’m sure other dancers would agree, would have to be, “What are you gonna do for it?” …Seriously? Quit waving that two dollar bill under my nose as if I’m about to beg for it. I’m pretty sure I can afford a cheeseburger, thanks.
The Serial Wanker Located in his natural habitat in the darkest corner at the back of the club, the Serial Wanker tends to emerge only to buy the occasional cocktail for his victim of choice, (then hurry it back to the darkness to add his own special ingredient,) or to sneak off to the lavatory (or, as we refer to it, “The Wank Dungeon”). He will spend the entire evening in this same position, hoping to take home a victim or two once the club’s doors shut in the morning. This never happens. But it doesn’t kill his determination to return again the next night. ..or the night after that…
The Crybaby At first this middle- aged male in the polo shirt seems well put together. But don’t be mistaken; once he has you in that private booth, your occupation suddenly changes from erotic entertainer to counselor, and you’ll wish you brought tissues with you rather than cigarettes. And if you’re really unlucky, he’ll extend his booking so he can spend another painful hour wiping snot and tears on your bikini and blubbering on about how he hates his job and his wife doesn’t sleep with him. You’re probably going to want that extra vodka shot for this one.
The Sugar Daddy Every stripper’s best friend. If she tells you she doesn’t like dancing for old men, she’s lying. B!tch, I saw you grinding on his knee for that extra dirty fifty. They survive on a strict diet of Gin and Viagra. They’re like magnets around these places; as soon as they rock up in their Ferraris there’s instantly two girls on each arm. And boy, do they love it. Sugar Daddies live under the strange delusion that these young girls love them for their humor and charm. If by “charm” you mean “wallet,” then sure.
Butter Chicken Burgler No, I don’t do “extras.” No, you can’t kiss me. No, I will not “do the sex” with you. Stop sniffing my shoe… And hey! Don’t pretend you suddenly can’t speak English when I catch you trying to run off with my panties, you strange little man!
The Big Boy Just turned eighteen and fresh out of high school, he can be easily recognized by the way his eyes almost fall out of his head and the drool dripping from his open jaw. It is important to be very gentle with these delicate creatures. One wrong move and he’ll be ringing his brother from the bathroom, asking him to bring an extra pair of pants when he comes to pick him up in time for curfew. This stripclub virgin has saved up his pocket money for this night over the past two months, and even then can only afford two beers and a ten minute lapdance. He reeks of Lynx Africa and you can tell he spent three hours picking his outfit. Tell him you think he looks sexy in that All Blacks shirt and he’ll worship you. Aw, bless.
So if there’s one thing I don’t miss about stripclubs, it’s definitely the atmosphere created by these dudes. Hey, they’re not all that bad. But there are definitely some interesting characters out there.