One Saturday night out on the town

I had written this great post earlier today, unfortunately, thanks to LIPA's rolling brownouts, my computer rebooted before I could save it as a draft. I had just finished it too. Being the engineer that I am, I finally got off my procrastinating butt and put the computer on the uninterruptible power system (UPS for short) that I had sitting in my room for countless months. Then I realized that I would be late for work. Here is attempt number two, which I'll begin with a short recap of this weekend and some thoughts then move on to what I thought was an interesting Saturday night.

Fortunately, nothing too terrible happened this weekend, I didn't need the backup like I did last weekend. This weekend, I did two weddings, two mitzvahs and an eighth grade graduation party tonight. It's been amazing, moving from one pocket of teenage kids to the next pocket, all celebrating the coming of age of one child and seeing the gamut of how well or misbehaved the kids can be.

I anticipated the barely teenaged children at this graduation being spawns of a certain fallen angel and getting mobbed by them. It turned out that the kids were fine and well behaved too. It happened to be the adults who were the misbehaved ones. One set of parents almost getting into a fight with another over who was first on line for their picture to be taken with their child. I told my assistant to grab the second camera and we took both of their pictures together and that seemed to quiet things down.

Another thing that amazed me is how physically mature many of these girls looked. If I hadn't been told that these were eighth graders, I would have mistaken it for a high school prom. They were dressed the same and except for the occasional short kid, I'm sure many others would have mistaken them for older children. Many of these boys were taller than my five foot nine inches.

Otherwise, things went mostly smoothly, except for the usual snafus that the lack of proper attention to detail causes. (Something I may put together in a separate post where I lambast my warehouse guys.) By usual, I mean that things that were supposed to be in the gear we used were missing. Who ever heard of not sending smart media cards along with the digital cameras that needed them?

Saturday night ended before midnight, which meant that I had three or four hours of "awake" time that I couldn't go to sleep for and had nothing better to do. I had to drive back home from Weschester, and didn't want to sit in traffic that I knew would be there at this time of night. I called some friends who I knew had made plans to be in the city, they told me where they were and I drove in to meet them.

Upon arriving, I met up with three friends and one woman who was the fiancee of one of these guys. Hereafter, the woman will go by the false name of Renee. They had already been drinking for a couple of hours and when I met them, they told me their plans for the rest of the evening. Yep, we were going a strip club to get my friend's fiancee, Renee, a lap dance. And since I had a car with me, I was now the designated driver.

Just imagine the five of us. Three guys wearing polo shirts and jeans, Renee wearing a tanktini and tight fitting jeans and me in my black dress shirt and black pants walking from the bar to a strip joint. When we finally got seated, we were told that there was a three drink minimum. For the amount we paid to get in and what they were charging for drinks, I would have rather gone to Webster Hall.

My friends opted to get a bottle of liquor instead. I had the obligitory first drink with them, and sipped soda for the rest of the night. My three friends proceeded to finish that bottle off. Renee immediately got her lap dance, which pleased the guys to no end. She seemed ok with it, but then again, I'm not marrying her, so I didn't have to hear the end of it.

I wasn't sleepy, but I was physically tired. I commented to my friends that at that point, I'd rather have a back rub over a front rub. Apparently, this was a challenge to my friends, who proceeded to get me three different exotic dancers to dance on my lap. The oddest part of this is that each of these girls approached me and pretty much ignored my friends. I suspect that they noticed that I had a nicer cut of clothing and that meant I had money to spend. I hope that was really the reason they kept asking me if I wanted a dance. I certainly am not good looking enough to have women falling at my feet.

Between the dances I received, I watched what the girls were doing on stage. To be perfectly honest, the only differences in dancing style I noticed centered on the brass pole attached to the stage and that these dancers had less clothing on. The hip shakes, the pelvic thrusts, and the upper body shake were all there. If some of the party guests at some of the engagements I have done recently wore less clothing, it would have been about the same to me.

Of course, I am not a dancer, and have never been trained as a dancer, so feel free to point out the nuances I missed in my observations. Don't get me wrong, many of the party guests didn't have the assets that some of these exotic dancers were displaying. It's just what things seemed like to me.

After the third dance I received courtesy of my helpful friends, my biggest friend, who weighs in just shy of three hundred pounds, became a little too boisterous from all the alcohol he had consumed. We called it a night shortly thereafter and I drove everyone home. As soon as I got home, I had to wash the cheap perfume and sweat out of my clothes. Otherwise, it would have been interesting for me to explain to the kids at that second mitzvah why I smelled like that. ;)