... reporting from Kalamazoo

My friend Marina mentioned something yesterday about how someone should have videoed girl's night out this past Wednesday. There were so many blooper moments that could have made us famous on YouTube. Well, it got me thinking... I should start a video blog about all my adventures. Places I travel or the new things I try... What do you, my non-existent readers, think?

What's in your head?

"My First Time"

My First Time at a Male Strip Club

Labare-Dallas

"They make the good girl’s go bad."

If someone asked a room full of people, “How many of you have ever been to a strip club?” most men would have no shame raising their hands. It’s expected behavior of their sex, but what about a woman? Could you raise your hand? Would you raise your hand? How many of you go to clubs where men take off their clothes for women? Outside of a bachelorette party, most of us would not cross the threshold of an adult club for women. Why? We are advised to embrace our sexuality and become fiercely independent women. We read Cosmo, where we learn all the tricks of seducing and pleasing our men. The bottom line, however, is that men still seek entertainment at strip clubs more often than women.

I would still be a strip club virgin if I had not been the maid of honor in my best friend’s wedding this past year. I have never been what you would call a “party girl”. I was not a bar fixture in college. I was the designated driver, purse holder, hair holder, and “chase -away -creepy--guy- from- my- drunken- friend” girl. My best friend, though, is my antithesis. She has always been the life of the party, and I was in charge of planning her biggest party to date? No sweat, right? Ha!

I did the only thing I knew how to do… Google. I keyed in “best places to go to for bachelorette parties in Dallas” and “best clubs + bachelorette party + Dallas”, etc. After reading page after page of recommendations and reviews, I noticed a common thread--a club called “LaBare-Dallas”. This place was a faint rumor to me… it was a male strip club. I knew of some older women who went there when they were my age. I’ve never heard of another MALE STRIP CLUB in the whole state of Texas. In Spanish it means “the bare”! Bare what? Bare means naked… as in without covering. Sweet Jesus! This could be just the thing I was looking for, because no one would expect it from me. I started research on LaBare-Dallas. All the reviews were good except for one, which I have to share. One reviewer wrote, “One dancer was large, with love handles, and had a pimple on his butt”. Knowing my luck, a butt zit would be staring us in the face the whole night. I had to check this place out for myself. I didn’t want to get blamed for taking everyone to some sleazy club.

On an impulse, I walked through the doors of LaBare-Dallas, hair still damp and wallet filled with cash. I donned a blue dress (that I normally wore as a shirt), black leggings, knee high motorcycle boots, red lipstick, and a smile. I had to squelch the cynic that was screaming protests in my head, lecturing me on objectifying men, vanity is a social disease, you are a lecher, etc. If this had not been so important, I probably would have shown up in a trench coat, a blonde wig, sunglasses, rain boots and latex gloves, waving around a blue light and a bottle of disinfectant. If I had access to a Hazmat suit I probably would have worn it. I was definitely intimidated when it sank in that I was actually at an adult club. I don’t get intimidated easily. I was on edge until I remembered the can of pepper spray in my purse. This place was supposedly filled with men shaking the contents of their banana hammocks to the song “Stroke It” for money. Have I ever seen a mankini before--in real life? I had to let go of all these preconceived notions if I was going to go inside. I squared my shoulders, stood to my full height, and opened the door.

All I can say is that I had the time of my life that night. Unlike a female strip club, there were no poles or smelly bouncers at every corner. Labare-Dallas is tasteful entertainment. The wait staff wears formal attire--crisp white shirts, black pants with cummerbund, and black bow ties. I told my waiter that it was my first time and I didn’t know what to do. He seated me at one of the “reserved” tables and patiently answered all my questions. I ordered a fail-safe mixed drink, a gin and tonic. If the bar could not make a proper gin and tonic, then they didn’t need to serve drinks. Luckily, it was promptly served and refreshing.

Now, the men. After my experience, I don’t feel right calling these men “strippers”. Anyone can stand there and wiggle around while undressing themselves. I call them entertainers, because they really do put on a production. These entertainers are eye candy, of course, but they perform choreographed routines that are honed to show- quality perfection. They perform as an ensemble, stage humorous duet skits, and dance solo acts. Some acts include fire manipulation, a shower, acrobatics--net not included, live music, break dancing, and just sheer body strength. Each entertainer brings something to the stage, be it a talent, persona, look, or personality. They hire quality. The club boasts entertainers from “So You Think You Can Dance?”, a three time Playgirl Centerfold and romance book cover model, and a professional choreographer and recording artist. The men look like Grecian Gods: sculpted, chiseled, and on display just for you. LaBare-Dallas provides men who can suit any woman’s preference--even mine. I made sure I grabbed that lucky fellow for a one- on- one dance. He was pure sexiness. I felt like a virgin all over again, fumbling around in the dark with a half- naked man, not knowing what to do with my hands. The DJ kept the crowd going with all genres of song mixes. The men were accessible because when their turn on stage was over they went to dance on one of the stage tables where women could go one at a time and get some individual attention.

One of the most important aspects of this club is that the entertainers are respectful. I was groped more teaching 2^nd grade than I was at LaBare-Dallas. No one touched me inappropriately. I left that night feeling sexy and liberated. I also had 9 free tickets for my best friend’s bachelorette party. It was hard work fishing those out of the side of a mankini.

Look at our counterparts… Ladies, we have it good. I have met with a group of women who make a pilgrimage to Dallas every year from Canada just to party at LaBare-Dallas. If that doesn’t testify to the quality and professionalism of this establishment, then what does? Don’t let preconceived notions stand in the way of having a night for fantasy and friends. Practice those seductive come hither techniques from Cosmo on the men of Labare-Dallas. They won’t say no to your attention--practice makes perfect. Just remember to keep it classy.

　Coming up... "What not to say to a male stripper"

Queen of the Rednecks, Part Dos

My family often amazes me by reaching new heights of redneck but honestly they can't help it. It's the environment... The town I currently live in has been my family's base for over 130 years. The muddy waters of this boondock town runs in our veins.

The most noteworthy thing that has happened here was the creation of "Big Tex" who began as our big Santa Claus. The State Fair bought him and turned him into a giant cowboy that waves and says "Howdy" at the state fair. My grandaddy was a part of the project.

We have two restaurants, Double D's or D&D, which stands for Dave Dave and Dooey's Steakhouse and the Grub-n-Gossip. Dominoe's sets up a pizza stand once a week and there is a BBQ stand called Jam-Acres (which to me sounds like Jamaicaers and an attempt to pay homage to the owners roots).

Our town has a Food Rite and a Dollar General. There is a tire shop that actually kept a sign up on the side of the road, "We fix flates", for several years. The Movie Shop is small and the man who bought it from my uncle in the 80's is still running it. His front counter sports pictures of dead celebrities and gangsters, like actual crime scene photos, of the 20th century. He is as good natured as they come- even though he likes graphic pictures of murder victims.

Once a year we have, "The Cotton Harvesting Festival", where we have skeet shooting competitions, chili cook-off, live music, dunking booths, retail booths, roasted ears of corn, and a street dance when the sun goes down. This past year it was held by the glowing embers of the First Baptist Church that blew up early that morning.

The town is small, the streets are bricked, the railroad tracks are in the middle of town, everyone closes shop to attend Friday night football games, and there is always a place to drop a line and catch some fish. Bigger isn't always better. It's the smaller things in life that make life worth while.