Sunday, August 15, 2010
I'm in love with a stripper
"This shit is about to be ig'nant off the hook. Luke dancers. Luke... Dancers" - Quentin aka Q (Terrance Howard), The Best Man
You can thank my man Pilot for today's entry. We were speculating about a friend getting married, got on the subject of strip clubs, and I let him know about this strip club franchise called "Onyx". Not sure how many of them exist but they got shops in Dallas and Houston. I told him how nice inside it was (for a strip club, a black owned strip club, that's saying something) and how my evening there was a great one for different reasons. And that was the bulb going off in my head that THIS would be a great story to share...
2006. Houston. The last two members of the legendary Four Horsemen aka Da Clique aka the Houston Pimp Tric Gangsta Clique have decided to join the other 2 members and turn in their playa cards. For one of them, O Dizzle, we decided we were going to get the fellas together and do it up. Talking 'bout old school, get full on firewater at the house, then take the party to a location to cut up. In this case, the cut up spot was a strip club one of my boys decided we should hit up.
Looking back, you couldn't ask for a more perfect scenario for moi. I was married but childless, the Honest wife was out of the country for 2 weeks, which means the Honest Man was going to be in full jackass mode. Now let me say this. I'm not one of those T-Pain I'm in love in with a stripper, make it rain on deez hoez type cats. I count on both fingers, how many times I have graced strip club. And it's not on some holier than thou, I'm degrading a woman who's trying get through college bullshit. Hell I've got homegirls who used to shake it, shake it. Naw, it's because I don't like parting with my hard earned money. PERIOD.
However, when it comes to bachelor parties, I'm all in. Like a dude putting up all his chips on the table during the World Poker Championships. I'm at the local bank, withdrawing 50 dollars, all in 1 dollar bills, and going to the L store to get the right firewater for the evening. I figure if I don't do this on the regular, I might as well do it right huh? That's my own strip club logic :-)
Back to the story, so we at O's house on Sat night, ironically Final Four weekend, watching the game, drinking like we in college, playing Xbox, talking shit about everything and getting ourselves right for the night. After a few hours, our boy says ok we rolling to this new spot called Onyx. He's been told it's nice and that unlike the other black strip clubs in H-town (Foxy Cabaret, Scores, Harlem Knights), the interior matches the women. So we all like bet, let's do this...For Harold!
We get to the spot and the public wasn't lying. It was plush in this piece. Crazy, we walked in, you see Slim Thug chillin' at a table like he's a regular because no one's bothering him. Then soon after we walked in, another semi-famous cat, Michael Blackston, walked in. What's weird is the DJ kept pumpin up "Michael Blackstone is in da building" like once every 30 minutes and we going who the fuck is this cat and what meaningful movie or show has he been in?
So anyway, we take our spot near the piano that has a pole going through it and just start scanning the room. Between drinking, getting some dances, and talking mo' shit, a chick hops up on the piano and starts dancing. We in awe of her "flexibility" and just going "damn" over and over like we Ron Simmons. And appropriately us and other cats are showing appreciation for her "flexibility" by tipping her. Here's where the Honest Man stumbles into an unforeseen opportunity.
Some of the cats that are making it rain are full blown wasted. So wasted they are missing the mark when they are tossing bills. And because it is dark, no one is realizing that some of the money is on the floor where no one can see it. But guess who sees it? Yep yours truly, the same cat that doesn't like parting with my money. So after a quick look to make sure Snooky isn't around to do work, I quickly hit the ground, acting like I dropped something, just grab whatever and quickly stuff in my pocket.
What happened next you ask? I damn sure didn't get any lap dances I can tell you that :-). Thanks to my good fortune and the fact that Da Clique wanted breakfast, I used my "hard earned" money to pay for my meal at Waffle House then used the remainder for my lunch and dinner the next stay. I basically picked up enough to recoup my cover charge as well as a few laps dances from Sierra. Life was DAMN good that weekend!
If you can't figure out the message from the above, then I don't know what else to tell you. Um, don't turn away opportunities when they present itself genius. And more importantly, if you trying to get over when you going out, make sure you roll with the Honest Man. Truss me, I'll take care of you ;-).
The Honest Man would like to thank the good drunk people at Club Onyx that night or else this wouldn't have happened without you ha!