Dancing with the Exotics

(Or, "The Ups and Downs of Lap Karaoke")

A holiday was exactly what I needed in order re-invigorate my ardor and re-charge my mental battery---- well, let me tell you that during this past month I realized my goal---accomplished by exercising my recreational options in visiting a new "K" venue up in San Francisco. It had the intriguing name --- the SHE & SHE-US AND THEM CLUB This setting was appropriate for my sole purpose of kicking back, drink in hand, shades in place, while scoping the local Karaoke gentry.

Wrong!!! My ardor was aroused, and my battery went into overcharge due to this club featuring topless entertainment--- girls, that is. It had been their newspaper ad that had caught my eye and thus no power on earth could dissuade my pursuit of NUDE karaoke singers--girls, that is.

There they were -- 10 of the most outstanding (and standing out) ladies whose prime objective was to make me happy one way or the other. I was "THE FLAVOR OF THE MONTH; according to these buxom beauties who knew no bounds in fondling my ego, petting my outstanding personality, not to mention hardening my arteries. (Please excuse the descriptive literary license).

The prize schedule for this night was $50.00 for best singer-$25.00 for 2nd best singer. $50.00 for worst singer, and $25.00 for 2nd worst singer. The contest ended with 6, I repeat 6 people tied for 2nd place worst singer -- the only winning category. I was invited to sing as a non-contestant, which rankled my rankle 'cause I knew that I could have walked off with the $25.00 for 2nd worst singer -- but my being a professional singer, journalist, sex therapist, and part-time model for the Frederick's of Hollywood catalog prevented me from competing.

One exotic dancer, "HONEY", did an outstanding version of "I WILL SERVICE"--the signature song of her profession -- and I certainly defend the costuming employed by all the ladies during their interpretation of the art of terpsichore -- bras and thongs, bras and thongs. This skimpy coverage did nothing to affect me other than to bring to mind the movie "THE HARVEY GIRLS' and my own version of the hit song "Thong, Thong, Thong, Went My Trolley". The costumes were of various materials and design--satin, leather, silk, brocade, mesh, crosshatch, and semi-transparent ... but they lacked the savoir-faire of the sequined SPEED00 I wear.

One feature in this club almost defies description and invited it's investigation as well as experiencing the magnetic attraction it holds for all comers.. the "VIP LAP CHAIR". A sacrosanct receptacle for 10 young nubiles whose unbelievable and contorted positions might make ELVIS return from -- wherever. My attempts to experience the chair were thwarted by the club bouncer whose name I recall was Sherman Tank. He pointed out that VIP meant Very Important Person -- and not, in my case, Very Important Putz.

Did I have a good time??? You bet I did and I was invited to audition as a male dancer, but after seeing me in my tie-dyed panty hose and glow-in-the-dark tutu the manager asked me "What are those lines that run down your legs?" I explained that they were just enlarged varisose veins -- Oh well, I can always model support hose at VICTORIAS SECRET -- or teach lap karaoke at the seniors retirement home in Oceanside.

Historically & hysterically Yours,

Bud Young