Summary

The author reflects on their experience visiting a strip club for the first time, grappling with their feminist beliefs and the objectification of women in the industry.

Abstract

The author describes their first visit to a strip club with a friend, who frequents the establishment. Upon arrival, they are confronted by the sexism inherent in the industry, as they are initially denied entry due to their gender. Inside the club, the author observes the dynamics between the male patrons and the female strippers, and struggles with their own discomfort and conflicting feelings about the objectification of women. They also reflect on the lack of female leadership in the industry and the financial exploitation of the strippers.

Opinions

The author expresses frustration with the sexism and objectification of women in the strip club industry.
The author questions the lack of female leadership and ownership in the industry.
The author feels uncomfortable with the idea of touching the strippers without their consent, despite the fact that they paid for a lap dance.
The author empathizes with the strippers and wonders about their motivations for working in the industry.
The author critiques the infidelity and hypocrisy of their friend, who frequents the club but does not receive lap dances himself.

The Tugging Conflict of A Feminist In A Strip Club

Photo Credit: Victoria Borodinova on Pexels

I had been thinking of going to a strip club for a long time, normally, things like that happen by chance and I was hoping it would. But I never went to a strip club until 2020. A friend told me he frequents this particular club and we could go together. I was excited about the adventure but I didn’t have a lot of expectations.

At 9.00pm, he came to pick me up from my house and we drove to the club. I can’t remember if we had a conversation on our drive there but when we arrived, I alighted from the car and walked towards the entrance of the club, he was a few distance away from me.

Two eunuch looking hefty men were blocking the entrance, from my experience at events and other similar setting, they’ll make way for me when I get to the entrance but to my surprise, they stood rooted and demanded why I was going into the club — oh! Now I get to experience what women on twitter have complained about, some clubs not letting unaccompanied women in for reasons best known to them. In a bit, my friend walked up to me and in a split moment, their demeanor changed as they hailed him and let us in.

Women are the ones letting these industries thrive and it is sad that women are not the ones leading these businesses and profiting off it. So much sexism in a business where women are the cash cows.

“I invested in this business at a time but my wife doesn’t know about it.” My friend explained to me as we settled down at a table.

The club was quite empty when we got in, the strippers had not started work for the night yet. He ordered a bottle of mall Hennessy for himself “I don’t receive lap dance” he said as he poured the drink, “I only just watch my girlfriend receive” like that absolves him of his infidelity to his wife. He spent the night arguing with what he thought could be my perception of him.

A dark skinned lady, with a one piece red lingerie emerged from the inner recesses of the club, she was about to start on the pole when she noticed my, the beam across her face made it obvious that they knew each other, she came to our table and they hugged, exchanged pleasantries and talked.

“I was telling her that I don’t receive lap dance” he said facing me, the girl confirmed “he doesn’t”. The girl then walked away to do some stunts on the pole. “She was asking me if you are my girlfriend, I told her you are my friend”, I only have one girlfriend” “Oga, you are still cheating” I thought, didn’t bother say it out loud.

More strippers started coming out, ready to work for their daily bread. My friend called Samantha to come give me a lap dance. The thing I never anticipated about visiting a strip club was how feminist me was supposed to act. When she came on to me, dancing and caressing me, I didn’t think I should touch her unless she permitted me so I kept my hands to myself. Not that men who made up most of her clientele would have waited for her to consent but I was thinking for her as a woman, how I would not want someone just touching you without my consent and yes they are strippers but it doesn’t take away their agency. The two thousand naira I paid for the lap dance doesn’t erase their ownership of their bodies. Maybe I am too sensitive but I couldn’t help it.

Samantha sat on my laps facing forward, grinding and urging me to touch her breasts I wondered what must have made her decide to be a stripper. How uncomfortable it must be baring your body and being that vulnerable with total strangers.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asked me. “No” I replied, “you should, and it’s really cool”

I could not imagine that for myself. When the other strippers saw my friend spraying her money, they soon started flocking our table, asking to give me a lap dance when Sam was done.

“So I heard” I replied her as she slip her hand in my shirt.

Maybe I shouldn’t look at all of them with pity but as Scott Turow said in his novel Personal Injuries, -“she made up this whole tale about me. I worked in the jail. I hated the men in there. Just the way she and most of the other girls hated the men in the club. That’s why they seemed to do it. For the chance to look down on men, who want it so badly, so openly, and who’re not going to get it” their reasons are beyond what I can comprehend.

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https://readmedium.com/how-to-turn-a-bad-year-around-dc286b3605fe

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