I have a deep, sincere hatred of strip clubs.
To be completely forthright, I have slummed within the lowest, paltry realms of Warehouse strip shacks and mingled amongst classy nudes and 'refined' gentlemen where each drink matches the price of a dance ($$$, in other words). These escapades were at the outer core of a rebellious fervor beset upon my late teen years and early twenties.
My experiences were no different than most men who tread into the universal staples of Adults Only Venues. Patrons are greeted with dark, blotchy red carpeting, cheap rope lights gliding along the walls, and rows of what can only be described as misplaced spotless mirrors that bounce the impending sin from one side of the hallway to the other.
Tawdry, yet enticing decorations beckon you towards a mammoth basement style room, headlined with a stage pierced with multiple poles. Nearly naked women hoping to capitalize on a rush of chauvinistic adrenaline rendering males blind to reality, thrust themselves onstage and sweep empty flirtations across the floor.
For some, the peer pressure coupled with an inescapable aura of feminine mind-control is too much and the twenty dollar bills emerge from pockets like an ATM machine.
For others, the performance resembles more of a 'house-of-horrors' perpetuating rapidly growing feelings of discomfort and shame.
Why are all these women naked?
What if my relatives see me here?
What would my mother think?
Undoubtedly, these questions have flowed through every guy at some point while partaking in this 'right of passage'-- However, it is not the shame nor the ridiculous amounts of money that cause me to detest these dens of dirt.
I hate strip clubs because they are insulting.
They are insulting to me, and should be insulting to every man who encounters their jaded presence along our streets.
What message do these venues echo throughout our society?
That a man is not good enough to find a woman on his own.
So, screw you! I am NOT paying to have a woman grind on my clothed groin for any amount of money. I am better than that.
What magical, golden gift can a stripper possibly possess that entitles her to my money for a service that really provides ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for me?!
Brothers, refuse!! Hell, I say, if you wanna play this game, let's go there!!
From a pure physiological point of view, the woman has the potential to gain more pleasure from her lap-dance than we do, in fact, the dancee is actually acting as the stage for the strippers enjoyment, she should pay him.
And, the more I think about it... men are doing HER a favor, choosing her over all the other girls in the candy shop acts, without hesitation, as a boost to her place in the pecking order of the cool lunch table.
Now, if your friends insist on stealing you away to one of these bro-tastic establishments, I implore you to make this commitment; Tell any inquiring stripper that, you will NOT act as her 'play-toy' for anything less than a drink (I am not responsible for the ensuing bouncer battle)!
Stand your ground! Strip clubs are NOT your friend, you are better than them. Do not allow the perceived appeal of superficial love/lust coupled with cheap perfume to cloud your ability of remembering WHO YOU ARE!
-----Note: My aforementioned sentiment should not imply that women lack a right to a very similar argument... I chose to focus on a position that my gender allows me to relate to...