Strip Clubs Make Me Uncomfortable

The Sidekick revealed to me this evening that strip clubs have always made him uncomfortable. When asked why, he kind of struggled for an answer. Isn't it funny how you have feelings and sometimes aren't exactly sure where they come from. He said he was always the guy at the back of the room playing pool. Gynecology Row, as he calls the front row, has never appealed to him. I tried to help clarify the situation and swiftly discovered the issue wasn't really a moral one. He doesn't feel going to the strippers is wrong, per-say. They just make him uncomfortable, okay?

Granted, he did tell me he doesn't find strippers attractive.

"Too skinny?" I asked, all hopeful.

No, that wasn't it.

Too naked? Too cheap? Too easy? All of the above?

The conversation went deeper and he told me how the strippers would gyrate and take off their clothes, then go backstage and get dressed only to come back out and chat with the men who were just ogling her. So, was it having to look her in the eye after looking into her vagina? Or was it the lack of relationship? Being so close to a naked woman, having those lustful feelings, but not knowing her name, favourite colour, or star sign?

This could have rang true if he hadn't already said he didn't find strippers attractive, thus taking away the lustful feelings most men probably have when looking at breasts, areola and all.

Then he said, "I don't know. I'd go in with a couple guys and we'd sit up front. Everyone seems so into it and I'm just sitting there," mocks sipping his drink, "and feeling weird."

"Is it because you're with guys? Like you're watching a lady dance around naked and it seems more like a solo sport?"

This might be it, but we haven't yet confirmed. In the end, it's almost as though he doesn't like strip clubs without really knowing why he doesn't like strip clubs. And all the while I'm making him run circles because I completely understand and am simply enjoying watching him try to explain it. The truth is, I also am uncomfortable with strippers and strip clubs. I don't look down on anyone else who enjoys them, or goes, but it simply isn't my rodeo. The objectification certainly bothers me, as does doing it with a crowd, then there's the fear of losing an eye. Also, I know these men are supposed to be sexy with their waxed chests, rippling muscles and aggro sexuality, but they aren't. So, in the end, I really do get it.

And so ends another after dinner discussion with the Sidekick.