I’ve got the flu. I am coughing like it’s the end of the world and sneezing and whatnot. So my friend suggests it has something to do with the fact that I have visited the strip club twice in as many weeks – all that vagina and bacteria and fungi and what have you in such alarmingly close and dangerous proximity.
I say with something akin to pride that I have become some kind of strip club aficionado, a booty connoisseur if you like. He is disgusted – thinks I am losing my mind, getting off the right track etcetera etcetera. He might be right. It is not my usual scene but a lot of things have happened recently that are not par for the course and I think I should probably help fate along in my derailment or at least have more than a casual involvement in this business of losing my mind. Or maybe it is the end of the year, a time for casting aside year-long inhibitions – I mean, I am right this minute styling my flatmate for a Roman themed office party famous for debauchery, and elsewhere in Calabar, people are getting ready to hit the streets in all forms of near nudity as per the carnival, so this is only in keeping with tradition. Whatever!
Anyway, like I was saying, I went to the strip club. Again. Somewhere in Lagos. Now, some of you who read my blog followed me on my very first foray into the ‘seedy’ underworld of naked flesh when I wrote about it here. But that was more than a year ago and clearly, I am no longer a novice. I no longer stare starry-eyed at swinging hips, unclothed female forms and jiggling breasts dangling on a body swinging from a pole. Been there, done that.
But I changed scenes and nothing prepared me for what I saw in this second place which shall remain unnamed because no one is paying me to advertise their business for them. So, this second place takes things a notch higher. I was, the first time privileged to sit ringside – that would be the chained off VIP section seeing as I was being taken by someone, and the second time, the regular section, as I was now the one doing the taking.
Two lessons here;
-Never experience something from only one view.
-Never enjoy something without introducing someone else to the, errr, pleasures you have experienced.
So you can say I have seen it all.
Now, what was different about this club is that while it is called a strip club, it also is a pornographic set. I mean, it’s the difference between watching a movie on screen – even 3D, and being IN the movie with the cast and crew all around you. And you sometimes get to direct some parts of the movie. Like when I point a finger at a girl and say ‘you, come dance for me’ and pour champagne down her pussy (I did) or when I swing my gaze over to another table and see a make-out session in full swing and say ‘hey, I want that. HERE.’
So they come over, two beautiful girls complete with dildo, condom, tissue and lots of enthusiasm. And right on my table in front of me, they f%$k.
And you hide in your room and watch porn. And lie about it too. This here is the shit.
Unfortunately, I have never been able to convince myself that people who are doing this stuff for money are enjoying themselves – although I must say the couple who made out on stage as the night wore on had me nearly convinced. Nearly.
Here’s what I find interesting.
A cursory glance around reveals that the audience boasts as many women as men. And yes, the women get lap dances too. In fact, there was this table with three women, unattended by any men I could see.
The sex is also exclusively girl on girl.
So I ask the obvious question in homophobic Nigeria – what gives? I saw this survey once where Nigeria was listed as one of the five countries that visit gay porn sites the most. And yet here we are, almost unanimous in our condemnation of homosexuality.
I understand that people do not find girl on girl sex as upsetting and usually, when people hear homosexuality, what they hear is two men. Well, I have news for you. If you love one, permit one, endorse one, tolerate one, forgive one, and you do not the other because it offends you, you are a hypocrite. I’m being kind.
I asked about licensing, and I am told that these clubs pay two million Naira a year to be allowed to function, undisturbed by the police. Of course. Everything is for sale. The people who allow this cannot tell me that they are unaware of what goes on in there, but they are the same people who stand up and condemn what two people do behind closed doors in their homes.
Oh and I cannot resist. On my second night, the sex was themed. A white-garment prayer/deliverance session, complete with the full garb; white garment, cap, sash, bell etc. so this girl with a flimsy loincloth cast herself about in the throes of some kind of dementia and the other girl who would be the…uh, bulldyke (I don’t know if this is politically correct term) who’s dressed in the white garment attempts to conduct a deliverance. But she (he?)sooner finds (him?)herself the one being delivered of her ahh, raging arousal in the form of a strap on dildo beneath the flowing robes.
I said Amen. The atheist in me loves it. I didn’t see any one looking angry. Maybe if it were a catholic priest?
Anyway, I think I am done. I doubt I will ever go again. Unless you can convince me there is more to be seen.
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