Ahhh the strip club- There is no other place where the human animal can express, so boldly, the full measure of its desire, beauty, ugliness, passion, hope, cruelty and kindness. All of it played out on the beat to hell barstools, neon stages and shining poles, to a soundtrack of booty rhythms and maudlin classics. Where else can the poet philosophize with the pervert. Where else can the white-collar workingman hoist a pint with a blue-collar thug in honor of a well-built rack and a pretty smile. Nowhere but the strip club, bubba.

In Portland we are blessed with a smorgasbord of places to fulfill your full frontal fantasies. There is a skin saloon for every persuasion- Gay, straight, borderline pedophile, granny lover, yuppie lover, fake breast lover, small breast lover… I’m sure your getting the general gist of what I’m laying down for you here. Options. Options, options, options.
One might think that having so many ‘gina joints so readily available means that visiting is a simple matter of hitchin’ up yer britches and stepping through the door like the flesh lovin’ hombre or Juanita that you are. One would think. But, one would be wrong. To quote John Goodman as the indomitable Walter Sobchak, "Smokey, this is not 'Nam--this is bowling, there are rules."

Okay, so it’s not bowling, more like watching nekkid people. Actually, completely like watching nekkid people. But it’s not ‘Nam either. And, there are rules. But more than that, there are guidelines- A kind of strip club etiquette, if you will. And if you won’t, then I will.

Come with me on a magical journey. Because, that’s what the world of strip clubs is… magical. Let’s just say that it’s a lovely day, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, there is a slight breeze from the north – northwest with 20% humidity, a high pressure zone moving slowly from the coast, and you are frustrated. You are frustrated because the season has brought forth hundreds of naked shoulders and legs, shinning faces and browning arms, breasts peeking timidly from low cut shirts, the torsos and chests of those basketball playing fellas in the park, slightly glistening as they reach for the rebound. You are a horny freak. Time for the strip club! Why, there’s one on the next corner… Mind the hobo!

But wait, shouldn’t we have some money? Yes, we should. In fact, going to a strip club without dollar bills is like going to on a canoe trip without the paddles. First, you look like an idiot because you’re in a canoe without paddles and second, everyone’s pissed off because you are a forgetful, inconsiderate jerk. Geeze, what were you thinking? As the sticker on the jukebox of Mary’s Club explains, “If your watching and not paying you are stealing.” The customary tip for a dancer should be, at least, one dollar per song. Three bucks for a three-song set is completely reasonable, considering what you are getting. So, let’s hit the ATM. But set a budget! There’s nothing worse than walking out of a strip club, stripped of your rent money and your dignity. Trust me on this.

Now that we have our bundle, let’s enter into our magical kingdom of integumentary delights. Mmmm, the neon lights, the music, the darkness. Let your eyes adjust and…
Wait a sec. Don’t just go running up to the stage like some ex-con with a hard-on. Some amount of patience is required here. Here’s the deal. Every strip club has a rotation of dancers, from two to more than two, depending on the time of day and the club. Now, you only have finite amount of money, right? And you want to get the most out of it, right? Well, here’s a secret… there is probably going to be a dancer that you like better than the others, for whatever reason- body type, costuming, acrobatics, whatever. So, the best strategy, upon entering a strip club, is to order a drink (keep in mind, cocktails will likely come at a premium), relax and watch one rotation of dancers. While your watching the rotation please remember to tip. You don’t have to go whole hog, but it’s good to let the dancers know that you’re not just going to stand on the wall “like you was poindexter,” to borrow from the Young MC. Once you’ve found a dancer that you connect with, go ahead and sit right up front, sparky. But tip, for god sakes. Many dancers only take home what they make in tips. It’d be like your boss watching you type reports all day, getting off on the spectacle and then not paying you.

Consider tipping as a kind of dialogue between you and the dancer, if I may get poetic about this for a second. They speak to you with their music selection and bodies, you respond by laying down a dollar. Sometimes, you can even have an actual verbal dialogue. But listen here, cyrano, don’t be lewd about it. I know it’s a strip club and you got booty all up in your visage, but there should be some expectation of politeness. Many dancers I’ve spoken to say they appreciate a kind word, a smile and perhaps some brief, uncreepy, eye contact. However, saying you want to lick them as a cow licks that ring of salt they hang on the fences so the cow can get some minerals or something, is not only off putting, but kind of cumbersome and weird.

Okay okay, so I’m sure a lot of this is old news for most barflies, but hey. There’s always the chance that someone, somewhere, needs a few pointers. I’ll wrap it up with a few more suggestions.

Remember the words of Mr. Wyclef Jean, "Just cause she dances go-go, that don't make her a ho, no.” In other words, you should have no reasonable expectation of getting laid when you go to a strip club, unless you’ve come in with your kinky sex partner and plan to go home and get plain ol’ freaky. If you come in thinking you are going to get laid, get a date, or get any other sexual favor from a dancer, you are going to be played. Fact is, dancers aren’t all angels, even though some may dress like it. There are unscrupulous individuals who will lead you on in order to milk you for every dollar you have. You’ll find yourself at 3AM, waiting by the stage door with a half dozen other rubes, each of you thinking you’re the lucky guy. Sad.

Couples! You are so welcome at a club. But listen, if your partner is trying to get you to come and you know that you’re not going to enjoy it, then don’t torture yourself. Have some honest dialogue. Doing something you don’t want to do and keeping it bottled up is only going to hurt you in the end. This has been my Dear Abbey moment.

Artists! Model fees are enormous, I get that. But if you’re sketching dancers in the back of the club for three hours, kick down some cash. You don’t have to give them $130 an hour, but at least throw down a dollar per song. I mean, these people are going to help you become the next Hieronymus Bosch. Show some freakin’ appreciation.

This should go without saying, but: No Touching. If you forget, the bouncer will remind you. It will likely be a painful reminder.

Finally, for god sakes, don’t forget to tip your server/bartender. They might not be taking off their clothes, but they are also working hard to make sure you’re having a good time.

Practice makes perfect, my friends. There’s no reason the gentleman’s club should be a “special event” type of thing. Go, cavort, enjoy, relax. A nudie bar is a great place to think, get inspired, or just get drunk. Soon enough you’ll feel at home in any pussy palace or cock castle that you enter- Another human animal, expressing your bold beautiful nature.