Beer and Clothing in Las Vegas

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12/03/2002

Beer and Clothing in Las Vegas

Question to Woody Allen: Is sex dirty?
Answer: It is if you do it right.

Question to George Burns (at age 90): How's your sex life?
Answer: It's like trying to put an oyster in a slot machine.

Sometimes everything turns upside down. I'm married and only go to strip clubs
when I travel on business. My wife knows and doesn't seem to mind as long as
that's as far as it goes (which is the case). Due to a temporary medical
condition, we hadn't had sex for a week (and I hadn't done anything to remedy
the situation on my own), so I was raring to go.

It was COMDEX week, and I was planning to visit the Olympic Garden. Being a
veteran of the Las Vegas strip clubs, I knew that friction can happen. If you
rub the bottle enough -- and in just the right way -- the genie can pop up and
grant a magic wish. This may not be a bad thing, but if the wish comes too
early in the evening, the night is pretty much shot.

The Olympic Garden serves alcohol, so this was an opportunity to fine tune the
process. On the one end of the spectrum, I could be stone-cold sober and just a
hair trigger away from a pocket full of Krispy Kreme glaze. On the other end of
the spectrum, I could put on a thick pair of beer goggles and be softened by
the accompanying lack of sensation. The challenge: To administer the proper
dose of alcohol to achieve the perfect balance between touch and imagination.

Just to complicate things even more. I had a COMDEX-related event I needed to
attend on Sunday night, as well as appointments all the next day. In my present
state of horniness, I could consume a lot of beer and still feel every touch
and caress of a dancer right down to the bone. This had the makings of a
perfect storm.

My flight got in around 11:00 a.m. on Sunday. A quick check-in at the hotel and
a visit to the convention center to get my badge, and I was ready to boogie.
Back at the hotel, I quickly consumed four beers (on an empty stomach). I
changed into my strip club uniform: loose short-sleeve shirt, pants with an
elastic band, no belt, and no underwear (when in doubt, go commando). Around
3:00 p.m., I walked into the Olympic Garden. Six more beers, and I was sporting
a major buzz. I had 50 one-dollar bills (for plenty of stage-side fun) and
enough twenties to get me well into the night.

I've been coming to Vegas for COMDEX and CES for about a dozen years, but I had
never been to the Olympic Garden in the afternoon. I had read online that the
lap dances are nastier in the afternoon because management makes itself scarce.
On this afternoon, the lap dances were no better or worse than they typically
are at night.

I started at the stage, happily tipping each and every dancer. As I moved back
to a more comfortable chair (a clear signal that I was ready for a round of lap
dances), I hooked up with Lori. She introduced me to some of the regular
afternoon dancers, and also gave me some very good lap dances. Sugar was next.
I had seen her Web site (www.sugarscookie.com), so I had high hopes for some
high-mileage dances from her. The mileage was OK, but nothing special.
The rest is pretty much a blur of cold beer, lively conversation, and
up-close-and-personal dances. All in all, it was an excellent afternoon. I even
sobered up enough to attend the evening COMDEX event, where I assume (though I
may be wrong) that I came across as a sober and up-standing individual.