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According to some random stripper in an unlit room … yes!

Then she asked me for some money.

Not too long ago, I had to meet someone who had come to Las Vegas to visit, and figured that since I hadn’t been to a Strip Club in awhile, why not there? It was 4pm. Well off-peak, and bound to be pretty empty except for maybe one or two women shaking their groove thangs.

It was not a good decision.

I walked in, and there were about 10 girls for every customer. Now I know how attractive girls at Las Vegas pools feel. Like a grossly outnumbered piece of meat.

They were literally fighting over me … “I talked to him first!” … catfights, well .. at least cat arguments ensued.

There was a girl on the main stage with a nice, round, bubble-shaped ass. I wanted to sit back and watch her while waiting. But, noooooooooooooo.

I had one girl after another giving me the hustle in rapid fire succession.

“Can I sit on your lap?”, “What do you do for a living?”, “Can you help a girl pay the rent?” … holy shit I heard them all.

But my favorite one, the one that finally cracked my defenses and made me burst out laughing was the girl who came up and said “I wish all of our customers were just half as handsome as you!”

Oh shit, I just burst out laughing and the girl looked totally confused. Seriously, does that shit work on anyone?

I look like a throwback parody to the era when Grunge was still almost cool. The first article of clothing I step on in the morning is what I put on, and I wash my hair twice a week … tops. Why bother? It’s just going to get dirty again. I put on 30 pounds in the last 2 years, and I’m 40. Good grief, if most of the Rhino’s customers are twice as ugly as I am … then all I can say is that you Rhino patrons are some sick pug fugly motherfuckers.

Now, I know the clubs are a business, but for crying out loud let me get in the door and get settled before siccing the bitches on me like rabid dogs. I’ll sit at the rail and pay $2-$5 per song to the girl at the pole. I will order a few overpriced drinks. If the club is dead anyway, my presence there is better than nothing.

But it seems those days are long gone. It’s all about lap dance, lap dance, lap dance, VIP room, lap dance, VIP room, VIP room, lap dance, lap dance. You can’t just kick back and relax and watch a girl shake her ass anymore.

What has the world come to?

And I’m sorry, most of the girls just aren’t that bright.

The place was like a comedy club. I shit you not. There were more conversations than I can remember, but here are a few:

Girl: What do you do?

Me: Nothing.

Girl: Well I know you have money.

Me: Actually, I don’t.

Girl: I know that’s not true!

Me: Why?

Girl: Because a man’s ego won’t let him tell a pretty girl that he doesn’t have money.

Me: Bingo!

Girl: So what do you do?

Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooosh!!!!!!!! The fact that I just called her ugly didn’t even phase her.

(another) Girl: So what do you do?

Me: After the surgery, I plan to become a stripper here.

Girl: (Blank Stare) So you’re a dancer?

Me: Only after I can afford the double D’s. Do you prefer Saline or Silicone?

Girl: (Blank Stare) Want a lap dance?

Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooosh!!!!!!!

(yet another) Girl: So, what do you do? (Everyone wanted to know what I “did”. But I hadn’t done anything.)

Me: Nothing.

Girl: You can’t lie to a dancer you know.

Me: Why?

Girl: Because we have heard EVERYTHING, and we know when a man is lying.

Me: You caught me. I am actually a multi-billionaire. I made my fortune in the women’s personal hygiene business. Did you ever see that commercial where those women ask each other if they get that “Not so fresh feeling”?

Girl: Yes.

Me: That was my idea. Pretty cool, huh?

Girl: Really? That’s soooo cool, I loved those commercials! (she was being sincere)

Apparently you CAN lie to a dancer.

Anyway, this went on for about 15 minutes with numerous different girls. Then, one girl offered me “protection”. She said that if I would keep buying her drinks, she would sit next to me and keep the other girls away from me. I told her it wasn’t necessary. She insisted it was. I told her that it wasn’t necessary. She insisted that it was. And she insisted that it was for 10 straight minutes until I just got up and left.

I never did get to sit and watch the stage girl wiggle. I had vultures in my face the entire time. It was not fun.

I called the person I was supposed to meet, and had them meet me at a local sandwich shop.

There was a time when I used to enjoy Strip Clubs. I liked to just sit back and watch and relax. I tipped well. I put the $5 bill in the g-string. That was fun. But I’ve never been real big on lap dances. For the price of 10 lap dances, you can get your knob polished by a decent quality escort. So I never thought that paying $200 for the privilege to splooge in my own pants was that great of a deal.

But alas. Times have changed, and like so many other things, even the Strip Club scene has changed to the point where I can barely tolerate it.

Don’t get me wrong. The girls in the Rhino were hot. Some of them downright Playboy magazine, lingerie model hot. The problem was that every time I started to get wood, one of them would open their mouths and I was limp as fettucini by the time she ended her sentence.

Thank goodness for Internet porn. The last bastion of hope for cheap perverts like myself.

And don’t forget. If you go to the Spearmint Rhino … you are uglier than me.

If that thought doesn’t scare you, then I don’t know what would.

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