Ah, the Dragon's Lair. It is the local strip club in Stillwater, Okla. It is everything one could hope it to be.
It was a good friend of mine's last day in Stillwater and we decided to send her off appreciating where it is she was going.
Our first attempts to get into "the lair", were met by pure sexism.
The owner explained that female patrons need a male escort. We were stunned, we are three division one athletes. Our combined weight is 475 lbs, and I'm almost pretty sure a male escort would do us little benefit. I'm also positive that is an illegal request.
We made a few phone calls and friends were on the way.
However,we got impatient, accosted a terrified looking solo college-aged boy and asked him to pretend like he knew us. Out of fear of getting beat up, he agreed and quickly scurried away from us.
It was all that you could hope for. The best stripper there, Genie, was 6'2 and had a voice that would make James Earl Jones jealous.
The motley crew consisted of four strippers. One was missing a tooth (which she explained she had lost during a cat fight with one of her co-workers), had breasts sagging to her knees and sometime in the night the soft excess that was her ass ate what little clothes she had once had on.
The other stripper had no boobs, being humble breasted myself, laughed with glee as she rubbed her sternum on the patrons faces for their spare change.
The final dancer could actually pass for something that would evoke arousal, except for the knee brace she wore for her routine. There is just something unsexy about a woman in nothing but a knee brace and a g-string.
I was sincerely hoping these ladies at least got paid minimum wage, but alas, their only wage was the occasional dollar whipped out for from sweaty old man's wallet.
Our real escorts arrived, a good time was had by all, and I went home with the peace of mind knowing that Genie and her crew could at least eat at Applebee's on the tips we provided that night.
He Lives with Chronic Depression
1 month ago