A few posts back, I mentioned that I went to Rhode Island to see a friend belly dance for charity. She’s been belly dancing for years and she teaches budding shimmiers how to work the action in their chassis. My sister was going to come with me, but her kid was set on having a sleepover with her best friend, so there I was with a couple of tickets and only myself. It was a golden opportunity to wrangle a boy into going with me.
Fun was had by all. We ate decadent Indian food, saw a bunch of pretty ladies undulate remarkably, and listened to some impressive live music.
While driving home, the boy asked me if it’s good that the audience throws money at the dancers. In my experience, when a troupe of belly dancers comes into a restaurant to thrill the crowd, it’s expected that they are tipped. Just like strippers are, but belly dancers don’t bare all, they just make you think your eyes are traveling down a sordid path. In the conversation where we compared belly dancers and strippers, the boy asked if belly dancers smell like strippers. The boy said that there is a perfume that all strippers seem to wear. I assured him that most belly dancers probably don’t wear it, but you never know.
Anyhow, I didn’t share this story with the boy, but with you good people, I’ll share what I learned doing time one lazy Saturday afternoon spent in “The Valley” [read: the San Fernando Valley, a suburb north of Los Angeles and pornography capital of the world] at the Candy Cat and the Candy Cat Too.
My only real reference to how strippers smell is from a day spent drinking and gambling at the pool table at both cathouses. I didn’t tip the ladies for their efforts, but I did share the lady’s room with them where they would primp and prepare to take the pole, er, stage. They all had powder and perfume to apply between performances, however, I didn’t notice a particular odor that they all shared, nor did I stick my nose up close and personal like with any of them.
The big lesson I took away from the experience was that a titty bar is an excellent venue to gamble with men. Men have a tendency to be inherently mesmerized by naked or nearly naked women gyrating before them. Distracted even. An unskilled pool player such as myself can win several games of pool with substantial stakes on the table against a fella who prides himself on his ability to get the balls in the hole when said games are being played at a table in direct line of site to the pole on which some acrobatically skilled ladies are giving it all they’ve got. Oh yeah, I guess I also learned to never lock the keys in the car when you are in a seedy neighborhood. A time will always come when you are ready to get the hell out, and waiting for the tow truck to come and break into your car is unbearable.
My only other experience with strippers is when I lived with Stan, Natalie, Jimmy the Plumber, and Damian the Asiaphile. Natalie was the only stripper in the bunch, but I never smelled much on her, except for pot, which she smelled of often. But that is a tale for another day, my friends, a tale for another day.