FULL FRONTAL HEADLIGHTS HANDS ON UNDERWIRE BEMUSEMENTS MISC BEHAVIOR CLASSIFIED BACK TO BEA

BEMUSEMENTS ALL SERIOUSNESS ASIDE...   CHILI PALMER LAPDANCING 101 TIPS, TALES, AND TRAVAILS FROM LIFE IN THE STRIP CLUBS I'm taking a step back from my usual morphing reviews to talk about my first love in adult entertainment: strip clubs. I've been going to clubs for nearly 20 years now; I've seen a lot of great dancers, and even more bad ones. Customers too. Customers especially. That's why I'm writing this column: to give the uninitiated or uninformed a better experience when they decide to pass that threshold from normalcy to club mentality. One of the reasons I enjoy clubbing so much (and rarely come away dissatisfied) is because I have the proper mindset. Clubbing is not a date, and you are not there to watch football, drink gallons of alcohol, or hand out stock market tips to the girls. You are there to get away from reality for a few hours in a place where other like-minded men are also paying for the privilege of having beautiful young women take their clothes off right in front of them (or even on them, in some cases). 99.9% of all dancers are not prostitutes, and you have no chance whatsoever of sleeping with them. They are simply working women who are there for one reason: to turn you into a walking, breathing ATM. Remember that, and you'll do well. First off, let's learn some terms. When I refer to a strip club, I mean fully nude. Here in Los Angeles, as in most places in the US, that also means no alcohol is served, just $4.25 10-ounce watered-down cokes. If you're going for the drinks, then you're missing the point anyway. The other establishments catering to our ilk are topless bars (alcohol happily served) and bikini bars (kinda like adult clubs with training wheels for 18-year-olds). I'll also borrow terms from the ASSC (alt.sex.strip.clubs) site and from Z-Bone's Guide to L.A. Strip Clubs, where I am a moderator in the Z-chat room. Just so in future editions we're all using the same terms, here is a repost of the infamous "dispater" codes from the A.S.S.C. FAQ, commonly used among strip club aficionados to designate mileage: 3.1 How do I measure mileage? Well, mileage is a very subjective thing. One man's extreme mileage is another's engine idling. Perhaps the best test of whether or not you had high mileage in the strip club tonight is when you ask yourself afterward, "Did I spend too much money, or not enough?" and you don't know the answer. 3.2 One more concrete method... ...is the Dispater Code scale. Obviously, this scale is a complete hoax. If any law enforcement officials were clever enough to be able to track down a naughty girl on the net, then they'd be clever enough to find a copy of this list. Without further ado, here's the list: THE DISPATER CODE SCALE 001 S.I.: The position of this special should make its meaning obvious, when seen relative to other specials. 002 Cream Pie: Time to get that tongue extension 003 BJ: I think we all know what this one is. 004 Gyno Show: Is there a doctor in the house? 005 hand job 006 clit massage 007 (adv.) feeding (Has to be nipples *in* the mouth) 008 magic fingers: Your basic groping 009 half pie 002, but only through the clit patch 010 stick shifting 011 Stevie Wonder 012 extra peek Now that you've got the list, you're ready for... Chili's Rule #1 of Successful Stripclubbing: NEVER wear jeans. If I have to explain why, then I'd advise you to just save your money, head over to Blockbuster and rent a chick flick. I always wear dark dress slacks (i.e., polyester/rayon blends) for maximum comfort and conductivity. But not Dockers. Ever. Dancers know, dancers see, and dancers avoid. Trust me. Chili's Rule #2: Never use a club ATM, and never bring your credit cards, keychains, or coins into a club with you. One final word this week: money. Bring lots of it. There's nothing more pathetic than watching some guy in a club turn down dance after dance from beautiful women, telling each of them the most lame excuses imaginable. I never go to a strip club with less than $200 in my pocket. What's the point? At $20 a dance, it goes reeeeeeal fast if you're not careful. If you don't have that kind of green to throw around, then head for one of the local topless clubs instead. The fewer the clothes removed, the less it costs to enjoy, and I often will go to Fritz's That's It here in Bellflower with just "my allowance" in my pocket and still have a good time. But serious lapping requires serious cash. Next issue: Chili and the infamous "bloody mary" incident, as the dispater list gets a serious workout. If you have any strip club anecdotes you'd like to share with Chili, pass them on. And if you live in the LA area, drop me a line and we'll meet up.