Private Dancer

I saw a real live male stripper this weekend for the first time ever, and it was one of the most hilariously uncomfortable hours of my entire existence.

It was a bachelorette party. We had an amazing time: dinner at Lebanese Taverna, drinks and dancing at a local bar, back to Bridesmaid's house where we all planned to crash for the night. On the way back to the house, we called for a "pizza" to be delivered, since you know, that dancing works up an appetite. Well, that was what we told Bride, anyway.

At the appointed time, Danny the Pizza Delivery Guy arrived (his arrival was pre-arranged, we just had to call to let him know when to show up), asking, "Who's hungry?!" I kid you not. Cue the sleazy saxophone music, right? Bow-chicka-bow-wow. So "Danny" (because I'm SO sure that's his real name, although he averred that it was) puts down his mini-stereo, and Bride is now on to the fact that we hired her a stripper. In our defense, Bride's only requests for the evening were dancing and a stripper. She may have been joking about the stripper, but Bridesmaid wasn't...

Bonus points: Danny already exceeds our expectations. He is not old (somewhere in the 28/29 range, like us), he is not hairy, he is not fat. Furthermore, he is a complete stranger (I had this semi-irrational dread that we were going to open the door to find someone we knew), and he is not a "butter face" (MOH's dread). In fact, he was surprisingly attractive. Score.

We find a Chair Of Dishonor and promptly seat Bride in it. Much hilarity and general humiliation ensues. At the risk of outing myself as a prude, I will say that Danny was rather considerate and respectful of the fact that I was painfully shy and reserved. While Partygoers A and B were much more, um, hands-on about the matter, I honestly did nothing but laugh the entire damn time, mainly because I couldn't think of another reaction.

And because the entire scene was a study in ridiculousness. Aside from his oh-so-swave opening line and the fact that I couldn't get MadTV's Cabana Chat ("DANCE, Pool Boy!") out of my head, here was this mostly naked man in the room, waving his naughty bits at us...yet we keep trying to engage him in coversation. We were Party 2 of 3 that night, and there were scratches on his chest that he said were from an overzealous party guest at Party 1, so we offered him some Neosporin. Partygoer C works at a gym and was impressed by his build, asking him what he did for his lats, etc. We asked him how he got into "the business," how long he'd been at it, what other customers were like, where he got the Papa John's shirt. I'm rather certain it was one of the oddest parties he's ever entertained for.

It's probably a fantasy line of work for a lot of guys. Women pay you (quite handsomely) to show up, take off your clothes, and let them touch you. And they give you extra money for it. These are things you'd do for free if you were just a guy that a woman had picked up in a bar - actually, you'd be out a bit of money after having to buy the woman drinks and out a bit of time after having to listen to her talk (face it ladies, that's how guys think.)

However, I have this theory that male strippers, being male, operate under the mistaken belief that what turns women on is the same as what turns men on. Therefore, I find it my personal duty to alleviate some of these misconceptions:

1. Consider your wardrobe. The Papa John's shirt was hilarious - nice touch, Danny. And the all-black beneath was a convenient base for the fireman you'd appeared as at the party before us, and the police officer you were appearing as at the party following us. Black is hot, no question there. But please, for the love of all that is holy, FOREGO THE SOCKS. They must be the least sexy item of clothing in the average man's wardrobe. And during the strip, they are a difficult item to remove without hopping about on one foot and looking more-than-a-little ridiculous. If you're concerned about foot odor, keep a pair of flip flops in the car to drive in, and you can change into your proper shoes when you get out of the car. You won't be wearing the sockless shoes very long anyway. Which brings me to...

2. Take your time taking off your clothes. Men are notorious for wanting women naked now, which leads to a fair amount of buyer's remorse over our purchases at Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood. Women, as the buyers of said complicated lingerie, understand and appreciate the tease. Show a bit of ab here, a flash of bicep there. Make us want to see more. That turns us on. Do not be in such a hurry to get undressed just because that's what you would like a woman to do. Points to Danny for at least leaving on the leopard-print thong (which was hilarious in its own right.) Which leads me to my next point:

3. I know this one is going to break your little hearts. Guys, women do not find your penis sexy. I state again that Danny courteously left his thong on the entire time. But page through a Playgirl and note the content of most of the photos. That's right, guys with serious muscles. Much rarer, if ever, is the sight of a guy's wang. Why? Well have you seriously looked at it? It's just not attractive. Do not - I repeat - do not wave, shake, or thrust your junk at me, even clothed, and especially within a 5-foot radius of my face. That is not sexy! A little funny, but not sexy. Men may find it hot when the quickly-naked chick starts flashing parts of her that would not be permitted in even an R-rated film (I refer you to Wanda Sykes' stand-up routine: "LOOK AT IT!!") Yeah, women don't want to see that. (Clarification: most women don't want to see that.) We can get that at home for free, and unlike guys and female strippers, it does not turn us on to see different sizes and shapes of your stuff. There was concrete proof that this was turning Danny on more than it was us. Instead, try to think of things we can't get at home, which brings me to...

4. There is a rumor widely circulated that white boys can't dance. Danny, bless his little heart, was no exception. Except for a bit of gyration-related lap dancing, alternating with the aforementioned waving/ shaking/ thrusting, there was little to the show. I'm not suggesting boy-bandesque choreography, but a little subtlety and/or finesse would have been okay. I've been to female strip clubs and I'll admit, those women can get into poses that I sure as hell can't do, so at least the patrons are getting a show that they in fact probably can't see at home. The cash collection game (Bride lays down on the floor, is covered with bills, and Danny picks them all up with his mouth) - cute idea, poor execution. An extra way to make bucks, I get it. But some of the moves you were pulling - it was kind of creepy, and again falls into the category of What Men Find Hot And Therefore Think Women Find Hot. Which brings me to...

5. Figure out your angle. Are you just there for entertainment? Are you trying to play the pseudo-seducer? Or are you hoping to actually get some from one of the customers? Regardless, NO KISSING! Fear not, it was only the cheek, but still, I don't know where your mouth has been. That and trying to whisper seductive stuff in our ears, which I suppose was meant to turn us on and get us all stripper-crazy. But Stripper Guy, you're not our husband, our fiance, our boyfriend, or even the guy we've been flirting with at the bar. I don't understand why you were alternately being Party Guy and trying to play Cassa-freaking-nova. Maybe that's standard male stripper schtick and maybe some women get all excited and either slip you their numbers or take you to the back room, I don't know. But if that's what you were aiming for, you shouldn't have scheduled three parties for the same night. Not that any of us in the room would have gone for that anyway. Then again, none of us in the room left claw marks on his chest either...

In spite of the silliness and despite all my criticism, Danny was a hit and I'm keeping him (or at least, his company) in mind for the upcoming 30th birthdays of some of my friends. Beware ladies...