LadyLee and the Male Strippers

Southern Black Gal posted the most hilarious tale about her adventures with a male stripper at a party she recently attended.
She SAYS she doesn't care for male strippers, but from that post... uh rah, seems like my girl was just a tad bit "excited" there.

Hmmmmm.

Anyway, I, the Oldgirl, have gone to a male strip club.

Now, don't look at me in that tone of voice.

Let me explain.

I lived in New Orleans a good 10 years ago, after I finished my schooling. Even got married while I was down there.

Now, I think I had been down there for a year or so at the time of this "encounter", so it had to be 1999. The husband (we'll call him "Oldboy" from here on out) called me at work from his office job and wanted us to get together with one of his coworkers and his girlfriend. He wanted to know if I was cool with meeting up in the French Quarters for drinks. I got home a little earlier than he did, so he swooped me up and we drove down to the Quarters.

We were to meet these peeps at Pat O' Briens. Personally I was not in the mood. I am strange in that if I work all day, I ain't trying to too much hang until the weekend. (Yeah, I tend to be a bit on the loner side, and am still like that 'til this day).

Anyway, we drove downtown, parked and walked about 6 blocks through the Quarters to Pat O' Bri.ens.



Now, if you have been to New Orleans you've probably heard of or even visited Pat O'Bri.en's. This is the place where the Hurricane drink was invented. If you've had one of these drinks, then you know that it is a bit, uh... potent. It contains several liquors and is served in a tall lantern shaped glass. People usually keep the glass as a souvenir.

Now, I'd split one before with someone and I had a good buzz. I mean, it's all fruity and it will definitely sneak up on you if you drink it too fast.

So let's just say that I stayed away from those suckers.

Anyway, we met his friend and the girlfriend down at Pat O'Briens. They were a couple of young white people, looking to be in their early 20s. I was a bit perturbed by this, as I was damn near thirty and didn't think I would have anything in common with these people. (People who know me, ya'll know how QUIET I am if I don't know you, lol). But we sat around and chit-chatted at a table out in the open courtyard. I don't even remember what month it was, but it was not cold enough for a coat or anything. They have the huge heaters outside during the winter months in the courtyard that keep it pretty warm in that area, but I don't remember any heaters.

Oldboy ordered me one of those Hurricanes, and ordered a frozen drink for himself. I told him that I thought we should share but he insisted that I have one. So I decided to drink it real slow. I mean, I had eaten dinner earlier (it was about 8 o'clock around that time), so I figured if I sipped on it, I would be alright.

Over 2 hours time, I managed to drink and have a slight buzz. It helped me loosen up a bit. We talked and laughed and did a lot of people watching. The evening was going very well. Oldboy's friends are usually suspect, but these were some pretty nice folks.

Like I said, I had a slight buzz, and was holding my own pretty well.

But I wasn't the problem. The other young lady was the problem.

She'd had 2 hurricanes.

I was amazed that she was still sitting up straight. I myself was on the good side of being alert, and wanted to stay that way.

Then she ordered a third hurricane.

"LadyLee, we can share this one," she said. "I don't want it all, just help me drink it."

And that's where the trouble began.

I think she poured at least 75% of her drink into my glass, despite me trying to stop her.

She drank the rest and was WASTED. She started fanning at flies that weren't there. I think she may have even passed out or blanked out for a minute. That chick was lit!

I drank mine a bit too fast. I was dizzy as all get out. I felt the way I felt when I had drunk a little moonshine a couple of years earlier- like if I had gotten up to walk, I would fall flat on my face.

So, around 11:00 p.m., the hubby said "Alright, let's go. Lee gotta go to bed so she can get up and go to work in the morning. I do too."

I got up to walk, and was functional, but I had to lean on him. That other chick, well, she was just wasted. Her man picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. This struck me as odd. But he didn't seem to care. (Dude must've done that many times before or something.)

Anyway, we stumbled outside of Pat O'Briens.

I tried to sit down on the curb. There was NO way I was going to make it 6 blocks to our car. NONE.

Somehow, Oldboy convinced me go. He was a hard drinker and held his liquor well, so he was sprite and ready to go. I leaned on him, and we walked slowly down the middle of the street.

Well, we were walking down Bourbon street and I was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without falling. Oldboy was pretty helpful, like a good crutch or something.

Then I saw a flashing sign in a window.

MALE DANCERS!
I pointed hard at the place.
"I want to go in there!"
I let go of Oldboy and staggered across the road, bumping into people as I went.

"I want to see the Male Dancers!"

Oldboy shrugged his shoulders. "Okay."

To be continued.