2005-02-01
The best feature in the Webster student newspaper/liberal rag, The Journal, is the "mishaps and misdemeanors" sidebar, which recounts the week's official brushes with the mighty hand of public safety. This week's highlights are worthy of being shared with the world, or all 50ish people that read this diary:"Dec. 29: At 5:57 p.m., a public safety officer noticed that a small car trailer had apparently been thrown off the fourth floor of the parking garage. The trailer, belonging to a student, had been damaged." Damn hell, you say it was damaged?!"Dec. 30: At 8:35 p.m., a dumpster fire was reported in Lot K. Public safety officers tried to extinguish the flames, but when the fire grew to an eight foot blaze, the Webster Groves Fire Department was called. The fire was started by a cigarette receptacle that was dumped into the trash." This isn't the first dumpster fire at Webster. This year. In that particular dumpster.
"Jan 18. At 2:37 p.m., an employee at the Loretto-Hilton Center notified public safety of a broken dance mirror in one of the small dance classrooms. It was later discovered that one of the dance professors broke the mirror while dancing with a chair."
BUT THE BEST ONE IS SURELY:
"Jan. 11: At approximately 2 p.m., a minor was found viewing internet pornography in the library. His mother was called to pick him up."
Hooo, boy. Anyway, on an unrelated note, I'd like to announce that I officially became a man last night. That's right, I took my first trip to a titty bar. Scratch that one off the list of things to do before I czech out of town!
It was Rob's birthday, and despite the fact that I can barely pay my rent, I was egged on to tag along to Diamond Cabaret for some gentlemenly good time. Diamond is a "touching" strip club. I had no idea that such hands-on places existed, so boy was I in for a surprise when I planted myself down at the stage, whiskey in hand, dollars at my side when an ample-bosomed blonde in a thong so thin that it's amazing she wasn't cut in two sits down in front of me, grabs my head with both hands, stuffs it right into her boobies, and shakes it like a giant snowglobe. She smelled like a flower shop and heaven. Interestingly enough, all the strippers smelled the same from head to hoo-ha. Amusingly, I woke up reeking of whore.
Plus, if you're like me and have never been to a strip club before last night, I'll bet you didn't know that they just grab girls that are hanging around the stage, pull them up there and just undress the shit out of them! It's almost predatory, the way they do it. They innocently come strutting over, bend down like they're going for a guy, then quickly slide over to his female companion and start pawing at her shirt. The girls, for whatever miraculous reason, are helpless to resist. To wit, I saw Leigh's AND Maria's boobs within half an hour of each other. Now, this is sexual harrassment writ fucking large, but apparently it's okay if it's women harrassing each other! Look for no furthur proof of the patriarchal influence over our society than a little government sanctioned girl on girl action.
Know what else is funny that strippers do? One second, they're up there shaking their ass cheeks two inches from your nose, and the next, they're sitting down in front of you, naked as a jaybird, making small talk like you would on a long trip in an elevator. Threw me off like nobody's business. It was literally, STRIPPER: "So how's the weather?" ME: "Uh, boobs? Titties touch buttcheeks? Rub? ...Covet?"
Twas a blast. I walked in a nekkid novice and a few drinks later I was practically an expert in topless dancing etiquette. So there must be a return trip. Everybody was right about Diamond - that place is the cat's ass - but I'm thinking of branching out to Roxy's. They've got showers. SHOWERS.
If you are reading this and happen to be one of my high school students, um... do as I say and not as I do. Don't, uh, go to strip clubs. Yeah.
-Andy