Bash Compactor: Strip Tips

All of the talk is about the champagne room, but last Tuesday night at Scores, during a party celebrating the strip club’s birthday, the real action was in the ladies room.

Having drained a Jack and Coke for courage, I left the friend I brought for support with a dancer named Alyx and made my way through the throngs of Wall Street suits grabbing at rhinestone-encrusted dancers, looking for a place to relieve myself. Somewhere in the club, Real Housewife Danielle Staub made her first public appearance since her sex tape leaked.

When I made it to the ladies, a gaggle of dancers was crowded around the mirror, rinsing their mouths with Listerine, squirting themselves with body spray and complaining about the breath of their patrons (gnarly) and the length of their skirts (too long).

“They’re all telling me that I can’t hike my skirt up when I walk, that it ain’t classy,” said Amy, a petite Dominican girl with highlights and a blood-red dress. “We’re strippers, man. Outta my face.”

I told her I liked her sparkly purse and she complimented my kitten heels. As we inched closer to the toilets, we fell into conversation about the lengths women go to in order to appeal to men. The other girls, dancers and patrons alike, commiserated from the full-length mirror.

Smoothing out her coral-colored gown and patting her orange feather earrings, a dancer named Persia said, “Yeah, they don’t know how hard it is to look this good.” She turned around, looked me up and down and asked, “Have you ever thought of stripping?”

I stuttered a response as she took my pen and wrote her email address on my arm.

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” she said before winking and making her exit. The rest of the girls followed suit, jotting down numbers and telling me to keep in touch.