Rocket Shoes

The Time I Cried At A Strip Club.

So I cried at a strip club this one time.

Let's start from the top.

Breakups are pretty horrible. I think anyone who's ever liked anyone can attest to this fact. When you get dumped, it feels like an amalgamation of:

- Not getting picked for "fill in the blank" team sport in middle school.

- That feeling you get when a basketball hits you square in the nose and you feel like your face just fell off.

- When you stub your toe and run around in a circle for a minute because human beings are reduced to small children in this moment, making jarring weird body movements while yelling, "OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW owthathurtowthathurt *sttttthhhhhh*"

- The feeling you got when your first goldfish died and you realized that YOU DID THIS, YOU DID THIS BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T CARE FOR HIM ENOUGH AND HE COULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY WHEREVER IT IS THAT GOLDFISH LIVE IF IT'S NOT AT A CARNIVAL OR IN A VERY SMALL CIRCULAR OBJECT.

Add all of those things together, throw in emotional instability and you've got yourself the general makeup of what it feels like to go through the end of a relationship.

So when this happens, it's safe to say there are a few things you should avoid doing, and/or there are a few things a person generally tries to avoid. These include (but are not limited to):

- Drinking alone.

- Drinking in public, where you will inevitably become emotionally unstable and irrational when that song comes on that was your song with her and you'll start mumbling things like,  "oh my god guys I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we're at a bar and I know I said I wouldn't talk about her all night but it's just..things are really hard right now."

- Drinking with people you don't know that well.

- Drinking.

Somehow, I think I did every one of these things in one evening. And the one I added in for good measure that's not on that list? Priceless.

I was in the middle of the two to three day arc of a breakup. The part where you just make weird noises crying and crap like that. Needless to say, I wasn't doing that well and was certainly not game for being good company and/or being a functioning human being in society.

So of course this was the exact moment that my team at work decided that it was time for us to stage a huge evening out with a large vendor we worked with. We were friends with the guys, it wasn't that out of the ordinary...but like, really? What are the odds. I was told that I needed to buck up because it was important I was there. So, you know, hooray. I figured I'd probably just pout in the corner like a small child at a family dinner until they told me to go to my room. That was the plan. It kinda went that way, except my kid's bedroom was called "blackout."

Going out when you don't want to is hilarious. It's almost like you're Richie Tenenbaum taking off your socks in the middle of a championship tennis match: you quit before you even got there. This was me. With a crew of about 15 people (about ten I didn't know so well) I was practically taking my socks off at my table. However, they were doing one thing I really liked: drinking. Drinking things you only drink when you're trying to buy the liquor off the fourteenth shelf of a bar. And I was a fan of that. Maybe too much of a fan.

(Spoiler alert: I may or may not have finished the entire fourteenth shelf of the bar.)

Let's just fast forward about three hours to the part where you're at a bar and you can't feel feelings anymore.

As I'm slowly plotting my exit, a few guys decide this would be a great time to go to a normal guy's dream home: a strip club. Here's the funny thing: I'm not a normal guy.

It's not that I'm "so cool" or "can't believe how demeaning strip clubs are." I'm awkward. I've been terrified of strip clubs since the time I was old enough to attend one. The reasons are more comical than anything, because they predominantly explain who I am in general. Frankly? Strip clubs are actually fairly like sex: you've seen video of it, but once you get down to it, you have NO idea what you're doing. Naked people are flailing all over the place. Horrible music is playing. But here's the (pun intended) rub of a strip club: it costs money, and there's no price tag and NO one tells you how much anything costs. One just assumes you know how much it costs for a woman to gyrate on you. It's not like you're at Target. Seriously, ma'am, I think you are attractive and you look fantastic naked, but I'm awkward and have no idea how much I'm supposed to pay you when the Def Leppard song is over.

So I'm sitting at this strip club lamenting my failed relationship when one of the guys from the other company buys me a lap dance.

I remember thinking in my head..."Don't be weird...don't be weird...just act normal...you're totally into anyone BUT (broken up girl) right now. This is AWESOME."

Guess what: Drew's inner monologue wasn't faking him out.

The last thing you want after getting dumped is yet another person pity dry humping you.

Great. More "not sex".

The woman sits on my lap and begins to do her really attractive naked woman thing. And at start...I just kind of sat there. The funny thing is? Most guys would be stoked. Being a neurotic Jew, all I could think of was, "HOW much does this cost? Will I offend her? I'm so sorry, attractive naked woman who is just doing this to get through law school. I'm emotionally unavailable for the Motley Crue song right now."

The rule of strip clubs and lap dances is simple from what I've gathered. You sit there, give this creepy smile that all males give, and just go with it. Whatever you do: Do not talk to this woman about anything but how she's hot or whatever.

Me? I looked like a kid who got thrown into the ocean when I had no idea how to swim.

Midway through, the girl asked me if I was enjoying myself (which for the record is an oddly creepy question).

Ready for this?

I began to talk about my ex.

I began to rattle off how I was just having a rough night. How I was, you know, kinda bummed out. I wish I had the conversation tape recorded, because I'm fairly certain drunk Drew told her all about the courtship and how it went from there on out.

A woman was naked and dancing on my lap. And I somehow found a way to discuss my feelings. I blow my own mind.

By the end of it, the woman turned around, and the most amazing thing occurred.

I was CRYING. A NAKED stripper was GYRATING on my lap and I was crying. I was five seconds away from being the next American Pie film. Like. This was happening.

The song ends, and the woman legitimately turned around and stared at me.

I was crying at a strip club. I was crying in front of a naked woman who WASN'T sleeping with me (sidenote: you shouldn't be doing this if a woman is sleeping with you). Is this even possible?

She looked at me. After discussing the girl with me for a moment, she actually (ready for this?) patted me on the head.

"Go home, sweetheart. You're too nice to be here."

And you know what? Sadly? I wanted to kiss the bejesus out of that stripper. Because she somehow gave me a way to go home. And hey, stripper: thanks for that.

So yeah. I cried at a strip club. I have cried to the song "Pour Some Sugar on Me" by Def Leppard. Which I think is a feat reserved for only me and a few white trash women from middle america.

And you know what?

I'm just stoked I got to go home.

The moral of the story is: I need to learn how to go to strip clubs.

And everyone else should be able to laugh their ass off at that story for the rest of their life.

Rock on, Def Leppard.

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21 COMMENTS ON THIS POST To “The Time I Cried At A Strip Club.”

  • twoeightnine

    April 4, 2011 at 10:38 pm

    I thought it was bad that I got whipped with my own belt at a strip club. This is much worse.

  • Drea

    April 4, 2011 at 11:06 pm

    For Christ’s sake.

    (I know that means nothing to you.)

  • Amy

    April 5, 2011 at 8:07 am

    Best post ever.

    I think everyone has an awkward strip club story… but… umm… this is probably the best I’ve ever heard.

  • leah

    April 5, 2011 at 9:41 am

    Haha, dying laughing inside. Biting my lip and hoping my prof doesn’t notice the smiling as she rattles on about biosynthesis of catecholamines…your posts are way too funny. Thanks for sharing. Best read during class.

  • daisy

    April 5, 2011 at 10:10 am

    Just. Just. Just… Amazing. I love you for crying at the strip club. And for writing about it. I do kind of hate you for ruining an amazing Def Leppard song for me for all of eternity, but I’ll forgive you because SO EFFING AMAZING, DREW. I’m imagining your glistening tears falling onto her cleavage and if that’s not how it actually happened, I don’t want to hear about it.)

    (P.s. Did you have to pay?)

    • Drew

      April 5, 2011 at 10:39 am

      Well, the guy from the other company bought me the lap dance. So the irony is: I cried and I STILL don’t know how much it costs.

  • The Sonia Show

    April 5, 2011 at 10:45 am

    I didn’t cry in a strip club but I have a somewhat similar story.

    I broke down and cried in Osha Thai.

    I had just ended a relationship of two years. My friends wanted to cheer me up and show me that being single was going to be awesome, so we spent the whole day drinking at a Giants game. After the game, we went to some bar, met a couple of guys and we all went to dinner for Osha Thai.

    The all-day drinking finally caught up with me. The food arrived and after two bites I started crying at the table.

    “Sonia, what’s wrong?”

    “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be single. I want to be at home with someone who loves me and I love them. Instead I’m drunk in this restaurant having dinner with these assy guys,” I sobbed.

    “Did she just call us ‘assy?’” asked one of the assy guys.

    “Dinner’s over,” my friend Deirdre threw her napkin on the table like a penalty flag.

  • Jenn

    April 5, 2011 at 10:59 am

    *** he he he he he *** I’m trying to not bust out laughing…he he he..but this is funny. sorry. We’ve all been in some sort of similar situation where emotions take over all control of anything rational. At least you can check this off you bucket list… it just means you’re sensitive. i like sensitive ppl!

    he he he

    xoxo!!!

  • mel.

    April 5, 2011 at 12:15 pm

    can you please have kate write some sort of guest post add-on for this story?
    pretty sure between your crying in front of the stripper experience + her red smartwater debacle…your readers will be in tears. both awkward. both utterly amazing.

    think about it.

  • Prude and Confused

    April 5, 2011 at 2:37 pm

    hahah
    You are hillarious. This is your first post I have seen and I am hooked!
    Hope you are looking forward to me blog stalking you from here on out and I look forward to reading more of your entries!! :)

  • Amy --- Just A Titch

    April 5, 2011 at 2:57 pm

    As a somewhat regular public crier (how attractive is THAT?) I tip my hat to you, because even I have never been THAT…I mean…wow. Just wow.

  • Katherine

    April 8, 2011 at 8:21 pm

    Yow. This has happened to me too. Not with a stripper, or even in a strip club, but other than that, it was pretty much the same. Really well written blog, Drew. Good job.

  • Just Call Me Lynn

    April 11, 2011 at 1:48 pm

    First, I don’t believe you need to learn how to go to a strip club. Yuck. Second, this was hilarious! Third, I apologize for laughing about your tragic situation.

  • tara

    April 17, 2011 at 8:20 pm

    Every girl who has ever dated a boy who has loved and spent gobs of money at strip clubs, adores you right now. At least I do.

  • Elly Lou

    April 18, 2011 at 5:40 am

    Now I can’t stop picturing dragging a naked woman over to one of those red price scanners they have randomly placed throughout my Target, and swiping her hooch under the red lasers for a price check. So. Um. Thanks for that?

  • Sarah Von

    April 21, 2011 at 1:37 am

    1) Few things endear a dude to a lady more than the ability to talk about feelings and hilarity. I imagine your single days are numbered, good sir ;)

    2) Once, a friend ‘surprised’ me by buying me a lap dance at The World’s Diciest Strip Club. The dancers literally got changed in the bathroom and danced to music from the jukebox – all in a fully lit room.

    But at least there was a pull-tab cage in the corner and they sold really good chicken strips.

  • Andrea Renee

    July 15, 2011 at 5:22 pm

    This is Gold.

  • Ellie

    July 20, 2011 at 1:36 am

    Drew, you are the most fantastic dude ever. I heart you to bits and pieces.

  • wall art

    November 9, 2011 at 7:49 am

    What a sad but funny story!

  • Lisa B

    March 24, 2012 at 3:17 pm

    I think you should post this picture on Pinterest. (I just read that blog) lol

  • Kate

    March 12, 2013 at 7:13 pm

    I saw this in your popular posts list and almost didn’t want to read it because I knew there was no way the blog could live up to how funny I thought the title of the blog was. But seriously? This is beyond hilarious and awesome. The entire blog is laugh out loud funny. Love it so much.

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