If you've been reading this blog since it started, you well know that I am somewhat of a connoisseur of strip clubs. Not all titty bars are created equal and on our assorted tours of Miami's finest my partner and I have happened on some tragic scenes. I must confess that my pole education is incomplete - I've never been to a white strip club. A long standing fetish for buxom, milky skinned red heads recently drove me inside the doors of two of South Florida's paler establishments.
I was pleasantly surprised. First of all, the myth that white strippers don't climb poles was quickly disproved. These chicks climb poles sans spurs, gaffs, hooks or spikes, like the some of the baddest big booty mocha dolls at Take One Lounge and Mint. Second, although there were a few spans of time during which hip hop was played, mostly the music trended towards the kind of fare most common in techno and rock clubs. Swaying gently to those electric beats is no small feat, ass popping is virtually impossible. Given the circumstances, they did an excellent job. Third, appearently "making it rain" is not par for the course. Dancers looked positively confused when we offered dollars for their stage time and seemed much more comfortable when asked for lap dances in VIP. Dances in the VIP area were somewhat contrived, or perhaps I am too much for a regular to mistake batting eyes for personality and genuine interest. Finally, saline and silicone had run a muck, much more so than I'm used to. If a chicks breasts were hers, they were A cups and came with a side of rib cage. Ewww!!!
I must say that although my tastes remain more in tune with the ass clapping titty shaking that is routine in black clubs, there is something dare I say 'classic' and endearing about the more burlesque flavors of venues like Solid Gold and Scarletts. I am sad to report that neither trip yielded a steamy encounter with a big breasted auburn haired goddess. So the question that is the subject if this blog remains unanswered.
Should I keep hope alive?