Obnoxiously bright blues, greens and various shades of pink are walking, talking and dancing all around me. For some reason the intensely colored, and revealing dresses are the focus of my attention initially, not the girls wearing them. I can’t help but think this was a bad idea.

I’m nervous. This isn’t an excited, happy nervous; it’s an anxious, uncomfortable nervous. I’ve never been to a strip club before. I agreed to come here because I’m in New York City for the first time, my friends wanted to go, and it seems like the perfect time to try something new. Maybe I don’t like new.

Some of the girls are sitting and talking to customers, some are hanging around the edges of the club in small groups, and one girl is dancing on stage, slowly removing her clothes. I’m supposed to watch her, to be turned on, to want her. I don’t. I feel like a voyeur; averting my eyes from the stage like it’s something private meant for someone else. (more…)