Tig Ol' Bitties

In my world . . .

. . . as referenced recently in my ongoing gender war rants . . .

Strip clubs, with female dancers, are now more frequented by women than by men. Or at least, the request to go to a strip club is emitted out of the mouths of women moreso than by men.

In my world, the men oblige their lady friends. We tag along, oogle and smile. But are we the ones getting the lap dances? No. It's the ladies.

In the stripper world, the dancers love it when women come to partake in their lap dances, moreso than the most respectful gentleman. Hands can be used, the customer can grasp the stripper, nevermind whether or not the customer gets off on it as much as the next male customer. Both can bump and grind together. It's kosher.

The man's world is now a woman's world. Not that I'm complaining. I don't get off on going to the strip club. But it's interesting to see the feminine movement of ownership and entitlement overshadowing the most male vs. "female as object" battleground. They're sad places when only men are present. When women are present the place lights up. This aspect of takeover, I think, is also in part of the recent burlesque resurgence of the past ten years. It's no longer about what the audience wants. It's about the performer, and that's what the audience wants to see. Ownership and entitlement over one's sexuality and aura. Both sexes of all orientations get off on seeing someone use their body, regardless of the individual's sex, to its fullest potential in a totally committed act, no matter what the activity.

Tonight, at 1:00am, all the guys wanted to leave. We were sober, we were done. All the gals wanted to stay.

In my world, I'm baffled. Yet amused.

*It ain't like it used to be . . .


Lovage -- "Sex (I'm A)"