A Special Kind of Ugly

I will continue with my focus on my old CD Warehouse job by telling the following story:

One afternoon, a man walked through the door, accompanied by two women. They went back and talked to my boss John. After a while they all came over to the front of the store where my friend and I were. The man and John seemed to be old friends. They talked about a wide range of things. Then John introduced us to the man. He said, “Hey guys, this is Rip and he works at the (local gentleman’s club). These girls work over there too.” John then walked over to the back wall with the man and one of the girls. The other girl stayed by my friend and myself to chat. She invited us to the club and tried to give us free passes to get in.

This episode cemented my decision to not ever go to any strip clubs. Those girls were so revolting that it drove any slight desire, which may have ever existed inside of me, away. They had high, thin, permed hair and all kinds of crazy makeup of varying colors in strange places on their faces. One of them had some seriously jacked-up teeth and the other one had no eye brows and had to paint some on. I imagined the horrible circus that would be watching those girls dance around and instantly tried to put my mind on less nauseating things. Questions soon arose in my mind. “Why would anyone want to watch anything like that? How are they still in business? Maybe they keep the lights really, really extremely low. Or maybe they have some seats and a stage about 50 yards away.” I submit that any young man whose first exposure to strippers was like mine, would not want to ever attend the strip bars. Needless to say, we rejected her free admission offer.