All pro athletes banned from scrip clubs?

Not that there's anything wrong with that... other than the dead strippers, I mean.

 

Reminds me of the time I went to a Bourbon Street strip club for a friend's bachelor party. I wasn't drinking and the club wasn't on the original itinerary, so I only brought about $60 cash with me and left my wallet and credit cards home. We end up at the club and after paying the cover and $9 for a fucking bottle of designer water I have about $40 left, so I'm watching my money pretty carefully.
I sit down next to some friends at the stage, just to be social, and one of the strippers comes and shakes her tits in my direction. The smallest bill I have is a five and her tits weren't that great. So I just kind of throw my hands up in a poor man motion and say, "Sorry."
Later on another stripper wanders up and says I look like I need a lap dance. I didn't know how much one was (I'm guessing in the neighborhood of that $40 that I had left, maybe more) so I just say, "No, I really don't," and walk away.
I hope those girls' grandmother wasn't relying on me to pay for that operation.

 

I remember this from my horny teenage years, but you might have caught it too, Spnited. In the early 1990s some random cable channel in New Jersey would have an infomercial or something on at like 1:30 a.m. on Friday or Saturday. They'd have the strippers doing their routines, basically in their bra and panties.
No idea what it was, or where it was, and it only lasted a couple months. But for a 13-year-old with no girlfriend and no life it was must-see TV.

 

Are you thinking Robin Lane?

 

I've been to a strip club once, about two years ago. A guy friend of mine thought it would be funny to buy me a lap dance. I was not about to let that happen. The stripper led me upstairs by the hand; I was freaking out (and very drunk). She sat me down on some nasty velvet couch. I explained to her that I was, in fact, famished. We ended up in the kitchen of the strip club at 2am making chicken tenders. She was topless. It was weird. The tenders were good.

 

Lesson number one: Never eat the food at a scrip club. Unless you're shithammered. Even then, it's highly frowned upon.

That said, there's a scrip club/steakhouse not far from my house. The food gets rave reviews.

 

The poor girl could have suffered a career-ending injury due to popping grease ...

 

You are so fucking cool.

 

Well, I came down the stairs with the stripper, who was holding my hand. Guy friend, eyes wide, was pestering me for details. Stripper, being funny, leans in to me (in front of friend) and said "you were wonderful" to me. And winks. Friend falls apart. When he found out that we merely cooked together, he was quite pissed at the amount of money he paid for my moment with the anorexic Paula Dean. He still holds that $100 over my head.

 

Sonner: Don't eat the steak at CCR. Just don't.

 

Did you at least also make her fries, CB?

 

I waffled on that. Decided not to. Enough curly things laying around.