So Phil made a comment and it sparked a memory.
Story time...
We drove all day to go to my brother's wedding. His buddy decided to throw him a bachelor party. So, saddle up, boys, we are heading out...
Side note: My bachelor party was pizza, pinball, goofing off, no major big deal at all, but just tons of fun with guys I grew up with. All I really remember is joking around with a bunch of farmers, smiles, laughs, and friendship. This could be fun.
I hop in my brother-in-law's truck and off we go. It's getting dark, I'm bushed from a 12 hour road trip, and start dozing off.... The RV point was a strip club parking lot... "Wait, what? Where are we going?" BIL says, "okay men, what happens here stays here. No tales will be told." Not quite what I was expecting, but then I'm a simple hick, not a man about town...
Side note: I had a big spiritual problem with this. And a big mental problem with it. This is not something I condone or encourage. Just like putting raw pork chops in your pocket and teasing all the bobcats you can call up... I want to support my brother, but not like this. What to do? Science brain speaks up, "Okay bud, observe, see what they do, this is an experiment and you are the researcher. Problem solved! Detached professionalism....
We pay the 5 bucks at the door, and find a table to sit at. Since I'm no drinker, I pay 3 bucks for a Dr. Pepper. I'm always the designated driver in a situation like this... Women everywhere, dressed to impress. As the night progressed an older guy starts paying ladies to "dance" for my brother. The amount of money he dropped was impressive. "Wow, that was enough to pay my gas bill to drive here." "Dang, He just paid for one of my new tires." What is the point of giving that much dough just to see her bones wiggle through her skin?
Side note: I'm a mid 30's, father of 3, working an engineering job, making less than median in Houston. I didn't have 10 bucks to spend on anything. I figured I could spend maybe 15 dollars there, max. And then the covert Pete's Pastrami run with my daughter was still possible for lunch the next day. Hmmmm....
Some young thing walks up and asks me to buy her a drink. Sure!
(Research for science in 3, 2, 1...) I paid 5 bucks for her fruit punch, and she sits down to visit.
Me Her
Worked here long? Yeah about a year.
Make good money? Oh yeah, a lot!
More than your expenses? Yes! almost, *blush* money to burn.
Have a day job? Not anymore, but I trained as a secretary.
How long do you plan to work? They make you stop when you turn 26.
Are you investing or saving the extra? Bleep, blurp, ding, whiz, pop! What? No!
So let me get this straight, you have an almost unlimited earning potential, and a set point where you will not be able to do this anymore, and you aren't making any preparation for the end? You could be set if you play it right! I gotta go.
Right then, I realized that not only were the big spenders idiots, so where the wigglers. This was a place that had no point. It was stupid beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
Thank you, no.
And our wives found out anyway and they were beyond angry.
My research project was only profitable for me. No one else cared what I discovered.
And lest you think I'm a total block head, there was this ice cube that severely tested my professionalism and detachment, it is burned into my mind, and I will likely never forget it.....
STxAR - Having never been in one, I will take your word for it. I am going to go out on a limb and guess this was many years ago. I suspect things have changed drastically.
ReplyDeleteThe closest I ever came to this was lunch at a Hooters. Once. Food was terrible. Never went to one again and always suggested somewhere else or offered to sit in the car.
We had the '86 Suburban, so that would be pre-99... It was long ago, and that particular juke joint got closed and the owners jailed for watering down their booze.
DeleteThe drastic difference, is I'm too young to be this old. That was one and done, so to speak. We had a guy that ALWAYS wanted to go to Hooters for lunch. I like curves and "jello", but I have guidelines. Food is not mixed with "jello". I figured long ago that if any woman besides the missus was "interested", Mrs. McDonalds had probably already served "over 99 billion".
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ReplyDeleteNo worries, duplicate comment.
DeleteSorry STxAR, on my phone...
DeleteHahah... too easy. Have a good night.
Delete