Running into Friend at Strip Club Like Talking at Adjacent Urinals?

I have to ask, because I apparently am unaware, is there an unspoken rule that guys who run into each other by chance at a strip club are supposed to pretend that they don’t know each other?  Kind of like how there is supposed to be no talking at adjacent urinals, just stare straight at the wall in front of you and pretend like the other guy isn’t there?  If there is, then someone forgot to tell me about it.  Of course, I suppose that is the whole deal with unspoken rules.  Still, maybe if there is a rule someone should clue me in.

Yes, strip club week continues on my blog.  This has been an extraordinarily popular topic, so I’m just running with it.  Don’t worry, anyone who is getting bored.  I think the week only has another post or two before I move on to other topics besides strippers.

I would think there wouldn’t be a rule where if you run into another guy you know by chance at a strip club that you ignore each other.  Guys go to strip clubs in groups all the time.  Bachelor parties, birthdays, bar mitzvahs, christenings, St. Smidgen’s day, all that.  Short of the real dive places where no one talks to anybody and everybody looks like their life force has been drained out of them, it is an atmosphere of camaraderie.  A party, guys slapping each other on the back and paying the strippers to humiliate each other.  Real fun.

Yet, there was this one time that I happened to be at a strip club with a couple of friends.  It was the Playhouse again, as fate would have it.  My friends were sitting over by the stage, eagerly holding dollar bills out in their teeth so that the particular stripper on deck could grab the bills from them with various and sundry parts of her anatomy.  I was walking through the crowd and I noticed a guy I knew from college walking away from the ATM.  Now, I hadn’t seen the guy in years and we used to hang out quite a bit when we had a class together, so I went to say hello.  I thought it was cool to run into him.

 However, he was not particularly enthused when I greeted him.  He grunted one word responses to my queries as to how he was doing and what he was up to.  He kept looking away, like he was ashamed that I was talking to him.  There was no interest in talking, no wonder what I had been up to or what I had been doing.  He scuttled off the moment I let him and I did not see him after that.

I had to think for a moment if we had parted on bad terms and I had just forgotten, but I couldn’t remember anything.  The only thing I could think of was that maybe he was ashamed to be seen at a strip club.  But, why?  Obviously I wasn’t going to look down on him for it.  I was there too!  Who was I going to tell that I saw him there?  I didn’t know anyone who still knew him.  Sure, I’m telling all you people, but I’m not telling you who he is, or even which college I went to with him.  It was inexplicable.

The only thing I can think of is that there is some etiquette that if you aren’t hanging out at a strip club in the same group you are supposed to pretend not to know each other, like going there is some sort of shameful thing you have to hide.  Hey, if you think it is shameful to go, don’t go!  Otherwise, go and have fun as best as one can in that sort of place.  Shame you plan to do nothing about is useless.  Next time it happens I’m going to buy the guy a stage dance and laugh when the stripper rips out the guys underpants.  He’ll deserve it.

About David S. Atkinson

David S. Atkinson enjoys typing about himself in the third person, although he does not generally enjoy speaking in such a fashion. However, he is concerned about the Kierkegaard quote "Once you label me you negate me." He worries that if he attempts to define himself he will, in fact, nullify his existence...
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