n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



January 28, 2004 - 11:38 am

What goes on in that place in the dark?

I spent the majority of Sunday wearing makeup.

It�s a good thing I balanced that out with a Friday night full of strange breasts in my face.

Saturday? Somewhere in between.

Friday night was Robin�s birthday. I told her to tell me exactly what she wanted to do, and I�d take care of the planning. We knew that there would be a Mad TV taping that night, and I had a friend in the office who could get us VIP seats and treatment, so that became Phase One of the birthday plan.

The taping started at 6pm, and since we knew there was going to be a Phase Three that started at 1030, it only made sense for us to throw a Phase Two in there that came between. Impeccable logic.

Phase Two would involve eating, and Robin was in the mood for sushi. We left the taping at 830 and headed to a great little Japanese restaurant tucked away in a mini mall at Santa Monica and Highland. The restaurant was next to a porn shop, which served as a nice harbinger of things to come. It was there that we drank way too much sake, ordered far too much food, and chattered far too excitedly over what was to be Phase Three.

Phase Three: Strippers.

Well, not exactly strippers. To be more precise, they were exotic dancers. We were headed off to a strip club called Cheetah�s in a part of town called Silverlake that promised cheap partial nudity and interesting gyrating. We were all excited over the promise that Phase Three held. Robin was excited because she wanted a lap dance. And I, for my part, was excited because Robin wanted a lap dance.

Our party arrived and encountered the 6�4�� eastern European door-tough, and handed him our free admission coupons I printed out from the website, which he accepted with all the reaction of a concrete slab. Inside, the bar was dim, and predominantly male. No surprise on either count. We sat right along the stage, which jutted out into the room like a cat walk. Drinks were ordered, and tens and twenties were broken down into singles.

Robin and I, service industry veterans both, decided that the polite thing to do was to put a dollar on the counter in front of us for each dance/dancer, no matter what. Former wait staff are always the best tippers.

I had heard that the girls would be interesting, and they were. With a few exceptions, they had tattoos and nice hair. I was told I could expect a strip club that would look like it was staffed by indie girls, and while that wasn�t exactly true, these girls were a cut above the sad looking, cookie cutter Carmen Electra clones you see on billboards near the airport.

The first dance ended while we were still settling in. The DJ had been informed that it was Robin�s birthday, and announced it to the bar. This fact was not lost on the girl that had just finished dancing, who immediately approached us and strategically placed her breasts on my forearm as she asked me if I was going to buy Robin a dance tonight. She and I had already decided that, while this chick�s moves were decently sexy, she just wasn�t the kind of cute we wanted, so we told her that we were going to hold off until later in the evening.

The dancer told us she would check in with us later, and said something about really liking birthday girls. The hard sell made it a bit creepy, and she moved off after we told her we were going to wait.

A few dancers and a few drinks later, we saw Veronica.

Veronica was short, barely more than five feet tall. She was lithe, with blond hair, and had a pretty with strong cheekbones, Czech features. Her dancing was incredible. It was the first time all night I�d felt legitimately turned on. Robin apparently felt the same way, because she was leaning into me and whispering that this girl was hot. I don�t know how to describe the dancing�Robin ended up deciding that her sexy was all in her slither. Veronica finished the dance the same way all the girls did: removing her bikini top and writhing against a pole at the far side of the stage. Her nipples were covered by pasties, in deference to some legal technicality.

She made her way back to our end of the stage, picking up numerous bills as she went along. As she stopped in front of me, she did the little �kitty roar� type thing, looking into my eyes.

80% of my brain: This chick is doing her job really well, because she just made me think she likes me.

20% of my brain: This chick likes me.

She apparently knew it was Robin�s birthday, because she came up to us shortly after and asked if Robin was �drunk enough yet for a dance.� Robin told her that she would get a dance when she was ready, and we both told her that she was currently at the top of the list. Veronica said that she hoped that she stayed there, and moved off.

Probably less than half an hour later, Veronica was leading us both into a semi-private room off the main floor.

After a few minutes of chit chat, Veronica asked if Robin was ready for the dance. She was. It was pretty amazing. Robin and I sat side by side on this restaurant style booth type seat, holding hands as Veronica did her job. I�m not sure if one could adequately describe what she did and how she moved, because it was, after all, basically a lap dance. Use your imagination. There was lots of grinding, rubbing, caressing, touching. It was slow and sensual. Maybe the performance art equivalent of making love. It lasted maybe ten minutes, and then there was Veronica, this skinny little blond sitting next to us barefoot in white bra and panties, beaming at us and asking if we enjoyed it.

If this seems just a tad weird, it�s pretty much because it is. Fifteen minutes from that moment, I was going to hand this girl $50 for doing what she did. But at the same time, it was fun, and more innocent than you might think, without losing any of its� dirty, taboo quality that made it something one isn�t quite sure they should be doing, which made it curious and desirable.

Veronica asked if Robin wanted me to have a dance. Robin said that she did, and Veronica told her not to worry, that she would take it easy. �I have a boyfriend, too,� is the way she put it. Robin, God bless this girl I love her so, replied �No, don�t worry about it, do whatever you want. I want to watch this.� I told Veronica to make this one for both of us together, that she didn�t need to focus on just me. And she did. And it was like before. And we loved it.

And that was that. Small talk, a handing over of cash, some thank yous, and we were back in the bar. Robin got into a game of pool. I had another drink and joined a conversation. Ten feet away, women were strutting on stage and removing their clothing, and I was surprised to find myself barely glancing in their direction.

Robin says she�s taking me to Las Vegas for my birthday.

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