Wednesday from the strip club.

So I needed to relax and unwind from work last night and I rolled on over to my neighborhood gentleman’s club (The Pole Position) for a $5 Heinie and the other kind of heinie.

Okay – DISCLAIMER: This sounds retarded, but it’s totally true.

So I roll in and I’m wearing my typical everyday summer time wear – tee and cargo shorts. What I didn’t notice is that there was a huge rip in my shorts on the side, like 6 inches. But – it’s a titty bar so who cares. I’m sitting down, checking out the dancers when one hops on my lap and starts talking inane stripper chatter. The girl (Mercedes…wait, Lexus. I forget.) notices the huge hole in my pants and asks what’s up and I let her know that it means I’m open for business. She laughs, a genuine laugh, not a stripper laugh. And from then it’s on, her stripper persona is totally overwhelmed by what she perceives as my manly confidence.

After hanging out for a while I get ready to leave but figure I should still number close her – which I do. On my way home I text her to make sure the number is real, and she hits me back. After a bit of back and forth she sends me the above phone pic.