For supplemental income over the past few years I’ve been working the door for an underground, though upscale lap dance party. Quite regularly I’m told by incoming patrons that my job rocks, but the truth is that a job’s a job. The hours suck, the work is tedious, and the pay is the only reason I keep the gig. At this point I’m pretty indifferent to that endless parade of scantily-clad women. It’s kind of sad, really, but there are subtle benefits in being largely neutralized to their appeal. One by-product of the job is the insight I’ve gained into the reasons why men frequent these institutions and who these guys are. Though of course there are plenty of exceptions, I’ve been able to distill the general lot down to three distinct archetypes:

1. The Party Boy. This guy is up for living life like a rock star. He’s there with at least one compadre and often appears in a large group of like-minded hooligans—every guy in a bachelor party falls into this category, only there to throw down lots of booze, grab lots of tail, and feel like a bigshot. for him, the women are merely utilitarian to these ends, like a line of coke or a snifter of cognac. They aren’t real people, they’re just tools with pretty faces and exposed tits. They’re there to carouse and indulge; the hell raising is just as much about his own ego as it is about,…actually, it’s entirely about his ego. The lies he’s able to convince himself of, and the perceived esteem he is able to convince himself that others hold him in. At the end of the night this guy either goes home alone, returning to his wife/girlfriend, or once in a while he might be able to make arrangements to meet a dancer outside of the club for late night partying. At the end of the night he’s forced to reconcile with the fact that he just spent a shitload of cash for nothing tangible whatsoever. If he’s cool with that, his chances of becoming a regular patron have just gone up by 300%. If this happens, his chances of evolving into the following two categories has been all but assured.

2. The Lonely Outcast. For one reason or more, this poor fellow just can’t make it work with women. He’s overweight, unattractive, socially awkward, clueless, damaged goods, hates women, hates himself, insecure, misinformed, is too damned busy, is a sex addict, or some combination of the above. There’s a vacant, desperate cast to his eyes. For whatever reason, he is unable to lead a “normal, healthy lifestyle” with a woman. Yet, like everyone else, he has needs that must be met and wanking it to images on a screen doesn’t cut the mustard. He’s not much of a talker, he schleps in with a furtive resolve, doesn’t socialize with other patrons. Perhaps he has his favorite dancer if he’s a regular, and most of these guys do become regulars. He doesn’t waste much time—he’s in the first and last wave of attendees, he gets his thrill on, spends his money and leaves fast, back into that cold, empty night.

3. The Unhappily Married Man. Generally older with some affluence, this guy breaks my heart. They are typically decent dudes past their prime, who don’t bother hiding their wedding rings. Everyone knows what time it is with them. These men arrive dressed fairly well, they’ve polished themselves up, and their mood upon arrival ranges from chipper and upbeat to melancholy and maudlin. They’re in complete touch with their reason for being there and it is rarely if ever about raunchy kicks. These guys are there to find or patronize that one girl who can take away their pain for a few hours. The UMM is well aware that the dancer of his affections is primarily interested in his money, but he doesn’t care; he’s been in a loveless marriage for so long that all he really wants is a sense of intimacy and the semblance of romance; he accepts that it’s all an illusion. He provides cash enough so that his dancer’s needs are met for the night and then some so that they can lavish all of their attention onto him, listens to him, touches him with gentleness. He develops an emotional attachment to his favorite girl, genuinely wishes her well and earnestly hopes that he can help her with her problems. The smart dancer seeks this sort of customer out, as it’s the easiest work for the largest amount of cash. Not just any dancer can pull this off, but some of the women I work with make upwards of two grand per night off of their regulars, and often they don’t even bump and grind for it; they merely curl up and talk quietly, touch with affection, and play make-believe for a while. Unsurprisingly, it’s fairly common for the dancer to develop real affection for her sugar daddy, as they come to understand that they’ve become therapists to a soul in pain. Nevertheless, at the end of the night he, too, goes home alone. And he always comes back.

(image: zeek.net)