Too legit to strip

No Sunday Meeting of the Finance this week! I got in from Washington DC Sunday night and conked the hell out.

My brother's DC bachelor bash was a success. There were a lot of b's in that last sentence. We booked (no more b's!) a nice penthouse suite and a private party room the next floor up. There were about 14 of us gentlemen total, and they were some nice fellers (except for one bearded dickweed who was mean to me. But he was drunk and obviously the odd man out, so I took solace in his innate bitterness and tried not to take it personally. The jerk.) Many of them smoked, and that meant I had to keep myself from bumming cigarettes. I'm an ex-smoker and it didn't take long to realize that quitting is a lifetime commitment. The craving will never go away. Vigilance must be had.

Yes, we hit up the strip club. I'd never been to one. Is that weird? It always seemed like a distasteful idea to me. A bit seedy, if you will. Not sexy at all. And why would I gawk at some writhing act performed by a lady who couldn't give two shits about me whilst crammed among a bushel of sweaty men who should give their money to the HOMELESS! The homeless give great handjobs.

The strip club was actually kinda fun. And benign. Everyone seemed sort of... I don't know... respectful. The dancer would do her thing on a neon stage equipped with standard pole and ceiling rungs, and every now and again some bloke would timidly approach the platform with a bill in hand. The dancer would dance close to him and shimmy about -- no touching -- and after some attention, he'd place the bill in her garter. And he'd sit down. It was all quite calm and orderly.

I must say the showmanship was awful. As one girl would finish her set, the next one would spray down the pole and mirrors to disinfect the area. Then the cleaning girl would take off her clothes and replace the previous one. No flourishing exits or entrances. No announcements or lightshow or fancy burlesque tricks. It was like trading shifts between merry-go-round operators. The girls were attractive though. And it was full on nudity, which was surprising. But maybe that's why the dancing was sub-par. When you do a tease with clothing, you've got to play it up. If you're naked, you can practically stand there and get some attention. Well, I do.

From there we went to our party room which was stocked with complimentary booze. The party went until 4 pm or so, but I decided not to risk missing my flight home by going to sleep. I stayed up with my brother's best friend from high school. We had nice conversation, watched the sunrise, and drunkenly looted a bakery.

A couple hours later saw me stumbling around the Pittsburgh airport wishing for death. Or a plane. Something.

Hey, you know what? I brought $250 for the trip. $100 went to my share of the hotel. Other than that, I somehow spent only $50 on food and booze and train fare. I kept a hundred bucks under budget! Not too shabby!

Now what to do about the hundred bucks. This is a financial blog, is it not? Should I put it on my credit card? More bike repairs (which I need to save on train fare and stay in shape)? Should I put it towards my brother's wedding gift? A little toward one and a little towards the other?

Decisions!