By Kaslyn Clarke
The lights dimmed, soft sexy music crept from the room and a foggy mist emerged from the depths of the Foxes Den as I walked into the club for the first time. Lustful eyes roamed the stage as the Latin Lover, gift-wrapped in thick clouds of smoke, took the stage and began to strut his sexy stuff.
He began to remove his shirt, letting the flimsy material fall from his shoulders. He made his way over to one woman and allowed her the pleasure of running her fingers along his rigid chest.
Despite the stage show, i was intrigued by the men casually learning against the bar, glancing at the stage.
“Enjoying the show?” I asked one of them. Nick turned his chair to face me, I asked him why he and his buddies came to the strip bar.
“Honestly? We come for the women.”
He and his friends regarded the club as a market with an assortment of women for their shopping pleasure. These male “regulars” were overflow from the female strip bar upstairs.
I was curious to know why women would frequent a joint like this which appeared to be no more than a meat market.
“It’s a chance to feel beautiful and young again,” one said. “The man is the sex object for once.”
“Don’t you think you’re being exploited too by those men? Do you know why they’re here?”
“Yes,” she said laughing. “But what can you do?”
I suggested not coming at all.
“No way,” she said. “This is the place to be.” She gestured toward the dancers patrolling the club half naked.
The night was coming to an end, and as the white lights flooded the room, most of the women reached for their purses and finished up their drinks. The women near the stage hastily wrote notes on napkins which they fastened to the strippers’ G-strings.
And, to my surprise, the men form the bar upstairs were not leaving alone. Nick winked at me naughtily as he left the bar, escorted by an attractive brunette who was smiling with profound satisfaction.
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