Sedira wrote:
Kaboom Kaboom - Marilyn Manson (This is not only one of my favorites because of its merits, but also that it was Sadie's signature song when dancing.)
Ah, I would have liked to see that. I suspect Sadie would win my dance contest on the strength of the music alone.
I am not someone who frequents dance bars. I suppose oddly given what I do for a living, but I don't feel comfortable ogling women that way. When I am working, it is somehow different, I'm not 'getting my rocks off' by treating her like meat. (My ladies almost universally tell me that of all the people they have worked with in the 'business', I am the most pleasant.)
But years back, my best friend was in a very long term relationship with a woman with whom I was also on very good terms. My friend practically had a fetish for 'strippers', he REALLY liked to go to dance bars. His girlfriend (later wife) wasn't entirely comfortable with this but was also a smart lady and knew if she denied him completely, it might strain their relationship. So she worked a compromise. My friend could go to a dance bar once every couple of months, on the condition that he take me along as a chaperon. And so for several years (until they moved to a different city), I would go to a dance bar several times a year.
Now I am quite well aware that the ladies on stage are not doing the bump and grind for minimum wage. For them to make the money they need and deserve to make, they need to get table dances (at least in my part of the world) where they get paid decent money directly by the customer, per dance. However, not being comfortable with a woman waving her snatch in my face for my personal entertainment, I wasn't really able to properly pay them for their work. So I devised the following;
I would secretly keep score of all the dancers in the club. I would 'judge' the dance performance of each lady on the stage. I was very careful to not bias my judgment on how they 'looked', I was solely judging the performance, the quality, artistry and effort they put into their dance. When it came time to leave the bar, I would go to the dancer that had won my secret competition and tip her twenty dollars, and tell her why, because she gave the best dance performance in the club. Rarely was the winner the prettiest, often they were the new girl who was 'trying too hard'.
If the club from the movie Flash Dance actually existed, I would be a regular.