One of the fondest memories I have of my days as an exotic dancer (this was about ten years ago now) was when I worked a bachelor party.

But not just any bachelor party.

I was working the day shift, it was dead, the only other dancer on duty was a wild-eyed blond with a preference for Budweiser and day-glo bikinis (I wore mostly black lace lingerie, myself). Anywho, this group of guys came in. Not typical customers. They looked, well, kinda smart and classy, sorta yuppieish. They were very polite and tipped well and made conversation and eye contact in a very non-lewd manner (unlike the usual crowd we got during the days--old guys who lived alone, potato farmers, maybe a student or two from one of ht emany colleges in the area).

After a bit one of the guys came to the bar and asked if he could talk to me. He asked if I would be interested in attending a little bachelor party they were having. Turns out these guys were all from Manhattan, and they came to the little get-away cottage owned by one of their parents in Massachusetts. Their idea of a bachelor party was to go play pool at the local strip joint (a dive in the middle of nowhere), come back to the cottage for an amazing gourmet meal (leg of lamb, chocolate torte, etc.), quaff cognac and smoke Cuban cigars. The idea of hiring a stripper was an afterthought, apparently.

I had never done this sort of thing before (and never duid after) and asked the advice of one of the night shift dancers about it. She advised me not to do it unless I brought a driver or bodyguard-type escort. I appreciated her advice but these guys seemed very safe. So I went alone.

It ended up being an incredibly fun evening. They were all kinda shocked to find out they got the stripper with the Masters' Degree. We had such a fun time talking they were almost reluctant to ask me to dance (but of course that is why I was there in the first place). They did not have a tape player so we had to find music from the ancient collection of LPs! I think we settled on Earth, Wind and Fire, which worked rather well.

We hung out talking and drinking until about five in the morning. I stayed in touch with them and actually visited two of them (and met one's wife) in New York a couple of times.

Anyway, thought I'd throw in that story for what it is worth. To show that not all bachelor parties are created equal, nor should they be. Have fun.

peg