Kevin Smith recently talked about his strip club experiences in his blog. Now, we all know I've had many over the years. But, how did I get started? How did I become the depraved pole dance loving, stripper dating, exotic dancer tutor that I am today? It's a sordid tale that begins right here in New York City. Mind you, I had never been to a real strip club my whole life until I moved here. I went to 1 or 2 in Jacksonville, but they sucked. Girls had the tasty pasties on. The only thing I remember about it was that some porn star/naked model was there that night.
Nikki Knockers. That's pretty much all I saw, so that's all you get! Needless to say, her pasties covered a bit more. It wasn't really all that stimulating or even entertaining. Years later, up here in New York City, I'm about to find out just how different it can be.
It was probably 1994 or early '95. I was working at a restaurant and a few of the guys kept talking about hitting a strip club. Quite a few of us had just moved up here from various places. One night, my friend Alan and I decide to just go. Instead of hitting the normal local bar, we set forth on our quest for boobage. Now, being new in the city and not knowing the scene, we had no idea where to go. So, we took the first suggestion from someone.
Runway 69. Yep. That was the name. It was ALL nude. Guess that's a bonus. Or so we thought. This fine establishment was located in the heart of Times Square. Around 48th/7th. Keep in mind, this was pre-Giuliani clean up. Still plenty of seediness and hookers and pimps and drug dealers and porn shops and peep shows and all around badness in the area. I believe it must have been a weekday, say Tuesday, that we went. Alan and I walk in after paying the cover. Around $10-$15. They immediately seat us at the runway stage. We look around. There are about 15-20 guys in the place. It was a tiny joint and seemed very dungy. When you think of the word "smut", you think of this place. There was a small pole leading to the ceiling. The ceiling was probably only 10-15 feet high. Many seedy looking characters around. Alan and I were the youngest ones in there. And the coolest looking ones by far. Me with my long hair and Asian-ness. And Alan looked like that soccer player, Alexi Lalas, from the USA national team in the mid '90's.
Remember him? We would pass Alan off as him all of the time. It was cool. Free drinks. Anyway, there we were. 2 young, hip looking guys in their early to mid 20's. Immediately, a few girls cross over to us.
Not the most attractive in the bunch. They asked if we wanted dances and we declined. We ordered drinks and sat and watched the dancer on stage. We weren't sure what to do and kept talking to each other. I guess to not make it seem like we were pervs and staring. HOLY SHIT! SHE'S TOTALLY BUTT ASS NAKED! I suppose that was our inner monologue. Then, one of the cute girls came over and sat on Alan's lap. A Russian girl whose name escapes me. Let's call her Nadia. Like she gave us her real name anyway! I guess it was a slow night and we were the most normal looking guys. She just hung out and talked. Working your way through college? Really? We soaked it all up. Bought her a drink and I think Alan got a dance from her. Then, a new girl hit the stage.
Ariel. I remember her moniker well. She was one of those flashy pole dancers. And, she was kinda hot. She jumped to the top of the pole and swung all the way around in a split. Alan and I and even Nadia stopped to watch. She crawled over to me and kept playing with my hair. I gave her some dollar bills, assuming that was the correct protocol for a hair tussle. She kept looking at me the whole time and we really locked eyes. Nadia was just chilling with us and talking. She didn't want any money. She was just bored. Either that, or she marked us for suckers and thought we would just give her money for talking. To my knowledge, we didn't. At one point, Ariel crawls over to Nadia and whispers in her ear. "She likes you.", Nadia tells me. "Yeah, right.", I reply. "No, no. Really!", Nadia insists. Assuming it's some scam, I just dismiss it.
Then, Nadia gets called on stage and has to leave us. Alan and I go back to talking and then Ariel comes over and sits on my lap. "Hi. I'm Jimmy. This is Alan. Nadia was saying nice things about you." She replies, "Hi. My name is Ariel." Seems normal, no? Well her voice....how can I describe it..... hmmmm. Like a 12 year old girl with thick braces and head gear who was chewing on some really chunky chocolate chip cookies. It was a little disconcerting. But, I went with it. The waitress immediately came over and asked if I wanted to buy her a drink. I said sure. She brings over, what I think was a fancy glass full of Sprite, and says,"That'll be $20." Wow. They got me. Oh well. That's all I'm gonna spend though. To her credit, Ariel just sat on my lap and we talked awhile. Often grabbing my hair, pulling it around her to hide her face and kissing me all over my facial area. Cooing in my ear that she really liked me. I was a bit confused. Does this chick really dig me? How do I know? Maybe I'm her Richard Gere here to save her Pretty Womanesque ass!
At this point, we look up and see Nadia leaning up against the pole. Completely naked. She had been talking to us as she was up there. Seriously, the other guys in the place were c-r-e-e-p-y. By the time we looked up, she was faux fondling herself in the hoo ha and turns to us and says, "This sucks. I'm masturbating and nobody cares." Truer words were never spoken. She actually said it as a joke and we all had a big laugh. Hey! Strippers can be funny!
Then, Ariel changes her game plan. She decides to straddle me. I ask her,"Uh...are you supposed to be doing that?" As she's straddling, she leans in and starts kissing me on the ear and whispering, "I don't care. The managers are assholes here! I like you and it's what I want to do." "Fair enough.", I submissively reply. After a minute of her sort of writhing as she straddled, sure enough, one of the asshole managers starts screaming at her. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM RIGHT NOW, YOU DUMB BITCH!" He literally went on for a full minute or so. Screaming in front of everyone. I told her it would probably be wise to get off. She reluctantly does so. She says, "I'll be right back." She storms off to the back for what I assume is a shouting match with the asshole manager.
Alan and I have no idea what had just happened. I'm kind of pissed that she was treated that way, but still wasn't sure what was going on. Maybe this is a routine they pull? She seemed so sincere. I was an actor and my bullshit detector was usually pretty good. Alan and I decide to wait a few minutes and then figure it's best we leave before we get kicked out. As we are about to leave, Ariel comes out dressed in normal clothes. We talk for a minute. "Hey, are you okay?", I inquire. "That fucking asshole. I hate him. I almost got fired tonight and I almost quit.",she says. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble.", I say. "It's not your fault. He's an asshole. I wanted to talk to you, so I did. Anyway, I'm leaving for the night. I'll see you later.", she replies. "Wait. Do you want to come with us? Maybe go get a drink or go to the diner?", I sincerely plead. "Nah. I can't be seen leaving with you guys. I'll probably get in trouble for talking to you now. Just come back and see me again.", she speedily replies and walks out.
Alan and I look at each other dumbfounded. We exit and head to our respective homes. I hadn't given her any more money, so I didn't feel like I had been bamboozled. It was just.....odd.
My first experience! Full of drama, dry humping, stories of Russia, masturbating, drinking, screaming and a genetically bad female voice. Awesome!
Yeah. We went back the next night.
No, our first and last time at Runway 69. A few years later, it would be shut down. I hear it's moved out to Queens now. Maybe I should pay a visit to see if Ariel is still there. 11-12 years older. Still working the pole. Fret not, dear Ariel. One day, your prince will come. Until then, keep straddling....keep swinging. I may be stuffing 20's in young girl's g-strings at places like Hustler, Penthouse and Scores nowadays, but I'll always remember you. The reason for my stripper addiction. My precursor to the Vampire Porn. My first lap dance. *sniff*
(Damn it! I told myself I wouldn't cry!)