Recently, I stepped out my comfort zone to enter the erotic world of black stripper culture. What led me there was the dry atmosphere of night clubs: I did not feel comfortable talking to girls I do not know, boring crowds and repetitive soundtracks; I wanted something intimate with a small, yet energetic space.
Now let us get it out the way of blerds being shamed of expressing their sexual desires. Most of the time it is intentional, but there’s a protection mechanism our mothers have over us. They raise us to be exceptional black men with manners that rival the most uppity of white Brits. Unfortunately, smashing our heads into books and living in an isolating home can be draining and this why I needed to detox for the long hours I had to sacrifice for a documentary that no one wanted to do (for my college capstone project). Plus, my college years were nothing like the adult movies of nerds getting easy women out of their league and partying every week. In reality, I dealt with rejection and got tired of trying to prove to the world that I am a catch.
Blerds should not be ashamed for thinking about sex or women. Media also does bad in presenting our visibility as they have depicted us as pervs or (when a girl pities us and we become) a charity case.
Black women should know that blerds are just like any other guy and we are missing something in our lives because we are tired of the career long responsibilities of getting a PhD and becoming a millionaire by 30. I had to go because I need the experience, so I enjoyed the strip club because I was respected.
Granted, there were micro-aggressions that I had to deal with. Before entry, I was asked for I.D., which is a normal routine, but due to my appearance I knew I could appear too coy or shy. Most of all, I did not want to appear thirsty. The woman at the door thought I was suspicious as I looked for change in wallet; she thought I was looking for condoms…come on do not insult my intelligence. I look young for my age, especially since I am short and skinny. One girl thought it was a bit awkward that I was older than her, even though she was taller, yet younger than me.
As advice for blerds reading my article, please dress accordingly and try to blend in with the crowd. This does not mean being a stereotype or out of character, but it will make your entry process easier so they won’t berate you for looking young for your age. Just do not wear your Star Wars t-shirt. When it comes to cash, at least have about $160. The experience can be addictive and extra money can help when you have too much of a good time. Those $1’s and $20’s will disappear fast, so always keep count.
Unlike the rappers, you do not need to ball out of control to prove a point or gain the attention of the women. Usually, the bartenders can help play wingman if you are lost for words on how to get the strippers attention for a private dance. Once you get the first dance other strippers will catch wind on how generous you are to pay. Even if you have cold feet, women will come to you.
Now most of their asses will be fake. Their skin will feel like a combination of rubber and Vaseline, yet it does not damper the mood. Depending on the club, these women will challenge you, so stop being lame for once. Touch her ass and grab her breasts, if allowed from the club or stripper, usually they will give cues on the places she wants to be touched. In my opinion, the dark-skinned strippers were my favorite.
With women in their circumstance, I do not expect anything more than good visuals and lap dances. I have seen lames and even rappers mess up by dating these women. I recommend keeping interactions professional, it is okay to have a light conversation, but I may give out my name and where I am from, yet they do not need to know my personal social media accounts. No matter how much of a good time in the strip club, do not fall for them, they are doing it for money. They are trained to cater to different personalities from street dudes to lames. Despite the imagery of hip-hop, strip clubs are a haven for old men and pervs, this was my first reaction when I stepped inside seeing an old dusty dude feeling for hours on a stripper who looked to be my age. I almost left because I had a conflict with seeing fine young girls pandering to much older men for money, but I stayed and did not regret the fun I ended up having. Sometimes I feel like a simp in trying to get every black woman into queen status, yet forget that some of them want to be strippers or even thots. I have held myself into a ridiculous high regard that going to the strip club makes me less respectable in my highly conscious family. These days I just want to have fun and not have long overdrawn discussions about white supremacy and black issues.
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