When one of my friends decided to have a guys’ night out for his birthday (I’m not sure if he wants his name revealed, so we’ll just call him “Dave”), I thought that was a pretty sweet idea. Since we weren’t 21, bars were kind of out. I, blissfully unaware, figured we would find something cool to do. We did not. “Dave,” some guy named Girish, and I got into the car and the decision was made to go to a strip club.
I suppose even the middle of nowhere has to have naked women dancing around poles. It’s the American way. We found the only one around (10 miles away in Enfield) – Kuma Charmers – and decided to check it out.
When we were about to leave though, we got a text. It was from two girls (one, who refuses to be named here, and the other, “Viv”) and Klaus. They knew where we were going but they wanted to tag along, even after they asked, “why would I want to pay $7 to see something I already have?” The six of us then took off to go see some naked ladies.
The first indication was the drive there. You think Ithaca is isolated? Go drive to Enfield at 11pm. It was kind of like those horror movies, the one where you’re driving in the middle of nowhere when one of your tires goes flat. You stop to check it and then get stabbed a lot for no logical reason.
We were driving for what seemed like forever when we saw our salvation: lights beckoning to us on the horizon, begging us to come closer. We finally got there and saw that salvation apparently took the form of a double-wide trailer with drunk people outside of it. We already started to feel our comfort levels get a little stretched; we weren’t even inside yet.
When I think of a strip club, I think of a front section with a stage with a front row of seats and then tables, and then a second section for those who just want to “watch.” However, Kuma Charmers didn’t really follow that notion. It just had one row of chairs around its stage/runway.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy female nudity. I would just prefer it in certain contexts. The context of a building with glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and leftover Halloween cobwebs and chilling with creepy guys is not one of them.
We all sat down in the front row and the first dancer immediately came towards us. It might have had something to do with the fact that the six of us were about 60-percent of the people there.
She went to the girls first. I have no idea why. She must have sensed an “I feel damn awkward” vibe from the girl with no name, so she went towards Klaus instead. I’ll transcribe the conversation here:
Stripper: Do I make you feel uncomfortable?
Klaus: No. you look pretty!
Stripper: sexy *purrr*
Klaus: You smell nice!
We only really saw three dancers that night, and the second was definitely the most interesting. She came out and immediately had the whole dominatrix thing going on. She would rip hats off peoples’ heads or choke them with the drawstrings of their hoodies. I admit it was the kind of thing that you can’t stop staring at no matter how badly you want to look away.
But there’s a difference between watching and participating. Her dance for “Dave” was alright, but for Girish she had something else planned. She splayed out in front of him and grabbed his head and put it between her thighs; she squeezed his head and started to spank her own ass. She grinned like some domineering she-warrior and then left; I happily came out alive.
Girish, on the other hand, didn’t look so well. He looked like he just came back from ’Nam: cracked composure and shock. Everybody else thought it was funny. He thought he needed to take six showers.
This was all in the span of about half an hour. We decided to call it quits soon after; the next woman was a heavy-set lady who looked like someone’s mom. That, along with the guy who had a handlebar mustache (smirked a lot in his seat while touching himself) and the trucker guy (long pointy beard with red and black flannel shirt: really liked motorboating – look it up, it’ll be fun) kind of made us want to leave. At least we got some stories and some funny times out of it.
There were some really attractive women there, but I guess it wasn’t our night to see them dance. Kuma’s wasn’t bad if that’s your thing, but if it’s not, well, there’s always the internet.