DC Snobs & Strippers Without Poles

I truly think if my week started out on Tuesdays, it would be a lot better. Every Monday for the past few weeks, I’ve laid in bed past my normal wake up time of 5:30 a.m. I give myself an extra half hour of contemplation time. Contemplation time usually consists of me contemplating whether or not I’m going to actually get out of bed and head into the office. Unfortunately, for the past couple of weeks, me in an office on a Monday, just hasn’t happened. So as I’m laying here right now in my bed, it looks as though I’m not making it in this Monday either.
I can’t say I had the most exciting weekend to wrap up my month long birthday celebration. I was supposed to spend it visiting friends in NYC and NJ, but didn’t make it up there. I feel bad because I haven’t been home in almost 3 years, but before the Fall is over with, I’d like to make at least one trip up there. So my weekend was spent here at home in the DC area. Friday night a group of friends & I made our way to the POV Roof Terrace & Lounge at the newly opened W Hotel in DC. If you’re the type that enjoys paying for over priced drinks & tapas, and have the need to be ’seen’ shoulder to shoulder with some of the most influential people in DC, then it’s definitely the place to be, otherwise, you’d probably be bored out of your mind like I was. The one highlight was the 60+ year old white guy, who definitely had an affinity for black women. I knew he wasn’t from the DC area with his New England accent, so when my girlfriends and I asked him where he was from, we heard one of the best pick up lines that night. He replied, “From your wildest fantasies”. Yeah, too bad you’re about 30 years to late old geezer, is what I thought to myself.
After leaving POV, we decided to make our way to our usual stomping grounds of U Street. Being that one of my friends had a younger out of town visitor, we had to find a lounge that would let him in with his baggy jean attire. Eventually we found one, and had a few drinks there, before heading to Ben’s Chili Bowl for a late night snack. At that point, not only was I pissed because somehow I got stuck with the $130 tab (bitches), but I didn’t drive my own car and they decided the next place they wanted to head to was The Penthouse strip club on Georgia Avenue. This was definitely a FML moment. I did not want to spend the rest of my night in some ghetto ass strip club with vagina all up in my face.
As I walked into the strip club, it was everything I thought it would be and more, unfortunately. This was not my first time at a strip club, but I’m used to a more higher class establishment, it’s the bourgie in me I suppose. Of course the guys we were with just had to find the table that was front and center and provided a good view. Yeah, it provided a good view of stretch mark laced tattoos on the bullet wound looking dancers. After I sat there for a few minutes, I noticed that there weren’t any poles in this strip club. What’s a strip club without poles? Why were the women grinding on dirty blankets & throw rugs? Can you say coochie rug burn? This strip club is the epitome of HOOD. Never, ever, ever again will I step foot into it.
That was my weekend in a nutshell. The end of my month long birthday celebration. I’ll relish in the moments of my St. Thomas trip, and the weekend before this past one, because I truly could have done without the festivities of this one, minus a few details that I won’t divulge here. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be in a mood to actually leave the house and go to work, today, I’m content with movies and ice cream with peace and quiet.
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