Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

photo by Juliana Beasley

I spent Saturday evening out with 14 guys on a bachelor party. As is the norm, we caroused around to some of the finest establishments our fair city has to offer, the "gentleman's" clubs.

Here're a couple of descriptions of some of the drooling misfits I encountered:

- A very pallid, hunched guy in his late 20s, wearing a long black trench coat and sipping cognac from a snifter glass. He had "hipster hair"---you know, "bedhead" style---but it was a little too unkempt to be an authentic hipster. He had a sinister gleam in his eyes and a pursed-lipped half-smile. I saw him stand at Sniffers' Row (SR) a couple of times, staring just like my beagles stare at me when I'm eating a hot steak.

- A guy in his early 20s with cerebral palsy who had enlarged, red sores on the backs of his elbows and who was not shy about shuffling up to SR to gawk like a starved animal.

- A bouncer that was built like a mountain who I overheard complaining to a bartender about someone who "ain't got no balls". Later, I hear him yell at one of the strippers to "GIT YER CLOTHES ON!!"

- Two unattractive latino guys in their 20s who had loads of cash. They were surrounded by smoking hot strippers and were talking up a storm.

- A fatherly-looking guy in his 50s wearing a Mr. Rogers sweater. I asked him, "Whose cigarettes are those?" He responded over the din, "HERS", and pointed to the six-foot-five gorgeous blond woman dancing naked on stage.

Anyone who tells you that women are just as horny as men is dead wrong. If that were the case, there would be fucking in the streets, my friend. No one would go to work and the economy would just collapse.