Hello, there. Did ya miss me?
I have two letters to respond to, this time around. Here's the first:
Dear Doctor of Cool,
So. . .I gotta know. What kinds of folks attended the book signing? Being an "AOLer" AND fellow role-playing friend of yours, (No not that kind of role play, though I do find Mr. Steele, as we say in the south "right purtty fer a
boy") I have had the honor(?) of exchanging digitized photos with many of my vampire/werewolf/mage/elf/asylum companions and found a great many to be "Goth-Lite". Given the subject matter of " . . .never dream" (remembered
those dots!) what sort of folks were staring at you? And if they were "Goth-Lite" did any offer to bite you?
;) Mr. Nyrve
Most of you (or, some of you) won't be aware of what a 'Goth-Lite' is. I'll explain -- and once more, I'll explain in the tradition of Jeff Foxworthy.
If you're always dressed appropriately for a funeral, you might be a Goth-Lite.
If you tell your friends that death is will be your only release from this tortured life, and then run to the doctor because your nose is runny, you might be a Goth-Lite.
If you've ever substituted an 'i' for a 'y' (example, 'vampyre') you might be a Goth-Lite.
If you've ever described your 'payn' as 'beautyful,' you might be a Goth-Lite.
If you are uncool and unsexy and you think ten body piercings are going to turn that around for you, then you might be a Goth-Lite.
If you're bad at oral sex and you think that ten body piercings might turn that around for you, then you might be a Goth-Lite.
And finally ...
If you've ever written a vampire novel from the perspective of the vampire, then you might be a Goth-Lite.
Sadly, I had none of the Goth-Lite crowd. In fact, most of my crowd were writers who were wondering about the self-publishing thing. However, I greatly look forward to seeing them at future signings.
The second letter ...
You know what? I feel like I'm learning something from you. I mean, really learning something. I'm not even being sarcastic, which is in itself, amazing.
Firstly, it's cool that you did this book signing thing. I hope the people who attended tell others and it just snowballs and translates into money and fame. And all that that implies.
But on to what I've learned. Although it might amaze or shock people, I really didn't know that guys seriously went to (ahem) tittie bars on a regular-lah-dee-dah-it's-just-another-Tuesday-night type basis. And actually, I do know a lot of men. Have I been sheltered from this important information? Apparently. I guess I had this idea that although every guy must go at some time or other during their lives, the places were probably populated for the most part by scads of stag-party boys and frightened/guilty grooms-to-be or bad-day-at-the-office types. Sort of a film noir image. I never imagined that there were really real men who went and sat and...were as comfy as if they were on the couch at home (This image I have of you typing at your Mac with a silicone babe humping a nearby pole is quite stunning. There is only one of you, I assume, doing that? Typing, I mean. Why do I see that Madonna video in my head just now? You know the one. With the guy in coke bottle glasses scribbling on a pad as he watches her through the peep show window? So, he was a "real-type" guy? Wow.) I also assumed that men traveled to these places in packs or mobs. Or at least in groups of two (And while I'm on this subject, I've always wondered what men talk about while a topless woman in a sparkly, red thong gyrates nearby. The job? The wife? Socks? Her tits? All of that? Is it casual? Uncomfortable? I must know). You go alone? Is that like...do a lot of men do that? I really never realized I was this...innocent. But the thing is, I'm not innocent. In fact, I've always considered myself to be kinda on the "informed" side. I'm shocked that this is news to me. No. I really am. What was I thinking? Where have I been? It's a little like the feeling I had the day I learned that some of what I took for granted about Star Trek was in fact, science fiction. (Go ahead and laugh at me. I'm laughing at me.) Like Force Fields. I assumed they were real. They should be. Wow...I'm getting off track.
Anyway, what I want to know is this. Why is it, do you think, that there are not as many bars like this (if any) for women? You know...full frontal nudity bars with tasty men serving drinks or dancing about. I don't buy that crap that women are not stimulated by "visual" things. Bullshit. I'm a woman and I am. If I wanna be. And I do. And why is it that there are so many movies...and I'm not talking about porn because that's just the nature of porn...with exposed breasts of female stars, but we never seem to get to see the most interesting part of a man's body? Suddenly I'm feeling screwed. And not in a good way.
Even so.... (:
Wow ... so many questions and concerns to address, I scarcely know where to begin.
Okay ... men in Titty Bars. First of all, I'm not sure I'm qualified to say exactly what all the men in there are doing. And -- for the most part -- I don't talk to most of the guys in there because ... why would I? I can only really tell you about my personal experiences, because I don't have a clue who those other people are.
(However, I can tell you this: I've never seen anyone resembling anyone from that Madonna video. No twins. No sailor-suits. No coke-bottle glasses with notebpads -- even if only because my glasses aren't that thick.)
Tittie bars are completely casual, and the conversations are everything you just described: the job, the dancers tits, etc. (That is, unless you're unseasoned, in which case you tend to stare like a moron at the wonderfulness that is Tits Without Buying A Dinner.) It's just like a regular old bar, except that once in a while, a nice half-naked girl comes around and takes a dollar from you between her boobies. That's all.
Is this something all guys do? Sadly, no. As best as I can determine, there are two reasons for this.
(1) Most guys don't know the rules to Tittie Bars ... the Tittie Bar Etiquette, as it were. They don't know how much to give, and they aren't sure when to give it -- and rather than look silly, they just skip the experience entirely.
(2) Because they don't know what we do when we go to such places, girlfriends and wives really put up a fuss when you do. If you're the type of guy who has a wife, a girlfriend, or both, then you generally don't get the opportunity to get into the habit of going on a regular basis.
I've been asked several times in the bar why I go and bring a laptop with me to write. I've spoken the answer several times, but I don't know that I've uttered it here ... here's the reason: if I were home writing, the music would be loud, and I would find the fact that there were no naked women dancing around distracting. So, I go to where the naked women are, so I can concentrate. Besides, if you're just going to sit and type anyway, you may as well do it in a place with that much happiness, right?
Okay ... the last question ... why aren't there such places for women? The fact is, there are. In fact, I have a little story about one ...
There used to be a bar about two hundred yards from my old apartment. They had a dry goods store in the back of the bar, and I could walk there with a partial-buzz on and get a little tiny bottle of Jack and walk back and continue writing. I didn't do it that often, so I was completely unaware that the bar had ... changed ... since my last visit.
I walked up to the front door of the place, and noticed without it actually striking me as strange there several groups of women were standing outside. Oddly, they were sort of ... oogling me. I mean, I'm a good-looking guy and all, but generally women aren't obvious about the oogle. They keep it nice and subtle -- a quick glance just to assess whether or not you're a doctor or a lawyer, and that's all. This was a little more obvious than I'm accustomed to.
When I hit the door, a large bouncer-type (admittedly, he was smaller than me -- but compared to other Humans, he was large enough) told me that it was 'Ladies Only.' My first thought was they the bar had changed into a Lesbian Club. I sort of looked at him with a blank, non-understanding stare and asked if there was still a dry-goods store at the back of the bar. As he was telling me that there wasn't anymore, the Truth slowly dawned on me in tiny, baby steps.
First, I realized that this was one of those places where women come to watch men dance naked and give them money.
Second, I realized that the 'oogling' I'd received at the front door had been because the girls had thought I was one of the dancers.
All I can say is, I must have been wearing a baggy shirt that day, or something. No one who has ever seen me without my shirt has ever mistaken me for a dancer. I just don't have the abs for it, I'm afraid. Maybe someday ... someday when dancers are all twenty pounds overweight.
However, I digress. The reason that women don't have more places with nude guys is because they just go too crazy in there. They scream and they carry on, and no woman has the energy for that sort of thing more than once every few years.
Oh ... and force fields? They're real.