Gimme, gimme more...

So what happened Saturday night? What happened indeed....I think the quote of the night that sums it all up for me is:

Where is his penis at?

Yeah. Here we go...

My request for the birthday night out was to go to dinner somewhere and then dancing. From my few trips up to Andersonville, I knew there was a bar that had booming dance music on Clark. We went there first and it was more like a normal bar with booming dance music. No actual dancing was taking place. However, the atmosphere was pretty good and we stayed for a few drinks.

Then we decided to try out some other options, see if we could find dancing. I just wanted to dance with my girls. We ended up across the street at a different bar. When we walked in someone was singing and I thought it was karaoke. It wasn't. It was some kind of...revue. Dancing and singing people. They were highly entertaining and we enjoyed it immensely. One of us even found her dream career (revue background dancer). I'm intentionally avoiding naming names here because I think my other two companions are a little more embarrassed with the turn the night took than I am. After the revue, go-go boys. What's a go-go boy? A nice word for a stripper that doesn't take off his underwear (mostly, I saw some ass and so did you if you clicked on that picture in the last post).

It was...hilarious. And creepy (we were in a gay bar, so there were some very creepy moments involving old men and go-go boys). And HILARIOUS. I giggle just thinking about it. The two friends I was with...I've known them forever. And seeing us all react to the situation and take it in...it was eye-opening. I tend to forget how open and unembarrassed I am about that kind of stuff. I guess I should feel like there's a taboo about talking about sex, penes, lust, boobs, etc....but I just don't. Especially not with these two girls.

And the question of "what makes a man be a go-go boy?". Well my answer to that was...it's his choice. It's his choice to let those creepy old guys fondle him (tmi?), it's his choice to parade around in his tighty...grayies? Who am I to judge him or wonder if the money is worth it? That's not my place.

I am leaving out a whole insane part of this story. Tighty gray pants boy? Went to our high school.

When I was in high school I think we had a graduating class of less than 200? I have no idea...but I think our school in total was less than 1000 people. And out of those 1000, one of them happens to be dancing in his skivies in the bar we randomly ended up in? Crazy small world...