strip clubbaments

Went to the Spearmint Rhino last night with some poker players. I kind of hate going there as I find it to be a huge waste of money and also somewhat depressing, but I decided to tag along anyway.

The guys I were with were pretty ballin', so they decided to get a table and bottle service at the club. Sitting in the VIP section of the Rhino, the girls come to you in droves assuming you are looking to throw a couple thousand down the tubes. If you've ever been in the Rhino at all, you know that the girls kind of don't leave you alone and are pretty aggressive at times, to the point of being really annoying. They are also completely transparent about trying to get the most money out of you as is humanly possible, which makes me usually huddle in a ball and act like the poor crazy homeless guy that somehow wandered in.

After sitting in our booth for a while, one of the guys named Ben told me "Hey, let's play a game."

Being kind of bored, extremely drunk, and competitive, I agreed. "What's the rules?"

"Think of the most fucked up hilarious thing you can say to a stripper, then say it."

"Sounds good to me."

A few minutes later with the game on, a young White girl in a string bikini came up to me and whispered, "Hey, you look pretty cute. Wanna party?"

I looked at her, paused, and asked "Actually, do you think I can just look into your eyes for a minute?"

She rolled her eyes, probably used to guys trying to pick her up. "Haha, sure babe," she chuckled.

A moment of silence passed, as I gazed deeply into her eyes. She began giggling nervously and fidgeting with her hips, eager to start dancing and end the awkward silence. I leaned over to her ear and whispered, "You know what?"

"What's that babe?"

"You look exactly like my mom. That's so hot. Can I have a dance, mom?"

"What the fuck? What are you, some kind of weirdo," she laughed as she started to walk away.

"Will you at least tell me you're proud of me?" I yelled as she left.

Ben was howling, rolled up in the corner of our booth. "OK, you win, I don't think I can top that," as he paid me the wager of our bet - one dollar.

I then proceeded to drunkenly shove the entire dollar in my mouth and begin chewing for no apparent reason. It was at this point while straining to think of what to compare the taste of a dollar bill to that I realized, "Hey, it's probably time to go home."

The answer I came up in the cab was sand, in case you were wondering.