Thursday, October 19, 2006

Stripped of His Senses

From the stories I've heard, it sounds like Dr. SOB had a great time in Chicago. He saw a lot of old friends and co-workers, ate a lot of free dinners and drank a lot of free booze. As it turns out, the only thing he paid for the entire time he was there was a trip to the champagne room for one of his former attendings. Yup, Dr. SOB went to a strip club for the very first time. And he was so drunk when he got there that he shelled out $250 so that one of his former bosses could spend some 'quality' time with a stripper that he really liked. Said boss was also inebriated beyond any reasonable level, not that it makes any difference. The guy is old enough to be Dr's father and was one of the more reserved people I knew from the hospital, but apparently all bets are off when you walk through those doors.

Dr. had always avoided any social situation where a strip club might be visited. He almost never went to bachelor parties, and if he did he would slip out after they hit the bars but before they hit the strippers (not literally). He always worried that he would feel uncomfortable and that his fellow men would notice. The result would be either severe ridicule or lap dance after lap dance to help him feel better about the whole thing. On that particular day, he had been out at the bars since about 2:00 in the afternoon. Naturally a visit to the one of the finer gentleman's clubs of Chicago seemed like a great idea at 1:00am. Luckily for him, it was more or less a tame establishment, where the ladies wore full coverage bottoms and had their nipples covered with latex paint. A lap dance consisted of a girl dancing 2 feet in front of you.

Despite that, he was still very distressed. There are more than several gleaming personality traits the good Dr. possesses that I could wax poetic about, and several of these likely contributed to his discomfort. But how ever much I would love to attribute his uneasiness to his morals, the main factor contributing to his anxiety was that nearly all of the girls were Lithuanian. Just like his mother. Even though his mother never lived in Lithuania, she spoke fluent Lithuanian, and the stripers' accents made him all sorts of uneasy! He said they reminded him of a younger version of his mother. In other words, his sisters.

In order to mask his mood, he drank several more beers (at $8 a pop!) and bought dances (and the afore mentioned champagne room) for his friends so would appear to be enjoying himself! The ruse worked and he escaped never having to endure the humiliation of receiving a dance from one of the young ladies. He returned to his hotel where he passed out and slept until most of the next day had gone by, and he still had a hangover when he got up.

He says it was every horrible thing he expected it to be, and that he plans to never go to another one of those establishments as long as he lives. Call me naive, but I believe him.

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Anonymous said...


EVIAN, if your dyslexic AND thirsty.

Tell Oedipus that in Atlanta, they go nipple-paint free and bottoms free.

That might change his attitude. The ones in Atlanta are better than Fat Matt's any day of the week.

Anonymous said...

I hate when I make grammatical errors. I meant, "you're".

super des said...

How very Freudian.

Gosh darn! I tried about 50 times to post this comment - 3 little words - but the stupid word verification wasn't showing up. Then my browser wouldn't let me go to another page! Gargggggghhhh!

Amy Jo said...

Honestly, and I don't know what this says about my husband, but I think he would choose ribs over nude strangers.

Oh and I eff up spelling and grammar here all the time since they don't have a checker thingamajig.

Sorry that blogger sucks ass sometimes, des. I know your pain and I appreciate all the effort behind those three little words!