[gumpzilla]

In my experience, it is pretty much impossible to go to a strip club and not get hit up by three or four women an hour who want to give you a lap dance. I'm pretty sure it's how they make their real money. How much it costs is going to vary from place to place, but $30 for one song seems to be pretty much the going rate.

The last time I was out at a strip club was with a bunch of graduate students, several of whom had never been to one before. These guys were catatonic, so when Kianna the Asian stripper with aggressively fake boobs came around soliciting for lap dances, she couldn't get a word out of anybody. Then the following interchange:

Kianna : "Why are you guys so [censored] shy?"
gumpzilla : "It's cool, we're professional dorks"
[Kianna straddles gumpzilla]
K : "My momma told me to love somebody who would love me more."
g : "Aha. And you think that's me?"
K : "You must have a dance."
g : "Sorry, no."
K : "Okay, then, but my titty needs a tip."
[Kianna bludgeons gumpzilla repeatedly in the face with a D cup shaped piece of plastic while he fishes around for bills, then dismounts and finds the next potential customer and begins humping him]
K : "I've got . . . to . . . make . . . it . . . hard."

As the above suggests, I've always found strip clubs to be more reliable at stimulating the surreal rather than the erotic. At this same classy joint, I was going up to tip one of the dancers who was crawling around the bar, and when she got to the regular next to me, he pulled out a flashlight, turned it on and started staring at her now spotlight vagina. Awesome.