Return to Sender: Where Are Your Priorities?

To the male patrons (and aren’t they all?) of local strip clubs:

So we admit it. Despite previous posts about public nudity and being appropriately dressed, we kinda love strip clubs. It’s not that the naked women turn us on (they really don’t – at all). It’s not that we’re looking to bring one home for the crazy orgy we’ve got planned. It isn’t even that we see stripping as a lucrative career path should our Ivy-League liberal arts educations fail us. It’s that we actually find the dancers to be talented, for the most part. And the fact that with so many naked women around, we don’t get hit on. We’ve been to strip clubs in three states and two countries, and have been ignored by men at strip clubs.

Until the other night. We went with some of our friends to Daydreams, near the Tacony-Palmyra Bridge, and our streak was broken. The bouncers flirted with us at the door, and from the moment we walked in, we attracted more attention from the men around us than the nearby dancers did. A sea of boobies, and our fully-clothed selves were the featured attractions.

What is it about Philadelphia that makes you, the clientele of these respectable establishments, so different? It’s not a rhetorical question. We’re quite baffled. The only thing we can figure is that your compulsion to stare at us is related to the Tourette’s Syndrome you appear to have when we pass you on the street and you shout out: “Damn! Those some big titties!”

We could write an entire column about the men on the streets of Philadelphia (and will, eventually), but for now, we’d just like to know what was going on in your heads. Was it: “Maybe they’re some of those gimmicky strippers, and that’s why they’re not wearing vinyl g-strings?” Was it: “Hmm, maybe they’re here to audition?” Was it, perhaps: “Girls wouldn’t want to see naked women unless they were lesbians, and maybe they’ll all make out with each other – or the strippers – later?” Or, for some of you, was it: “Too many boobs. Too many boobs! Oh look, nice non-threatening clothed women for us to stare at so as to avert our eyes from the boobies?” If it was that last one, we promise we won’t make fun of you like those boys in your high school gym class used to. It’s a valid and legitimate lifestyle that we fully support, and you are forgiven for staring at us. But only you are forgiven. Gentlemen fitting into the first three categories can go to hell.

Boys – you ruined our evening. We couldn’t even admire the body art and athleticism. You kept walking past us. Staring. Occasionally muttering something that we knew was for or about us. You paid a twenty-dollar cover charge so that you could watch the naked women. And then you spent your evening staring at us. And frankly, we’re offended. We’d like to think we’re worth more than that.

Photo credit: Vegas Retro