Stories from the Road: Visiting a White Girl Strip Club
Daddy Rabbit’s, Paper Moon and Pure Pleasure | Richmond, VA
I’m back in The Matrix for a quick visit to family and friends before I return to my haven from Anglo American insanity in the Caribbean. I have some spare time on my hands, so I wander on down to a titty bar the other day in an East Coast city to kick back, relax, throw down a few Yuengling beers and watch some titties and ass bouncing around. You know, typical guy thing.
As usual, because my instincts are honed when it comes to having a good time, I head to the “bad part of town” because that’s where the best strip clubs usually are. I see black chicks walking around outside the stores and restaurants in this neighborhood, so I feel like I’m safe and I’ll be having a good time soon, just as I did days earlier when I stopped off on Downman Road in New Orleans. (If you haven’t had the black strip club experience, you need to.) I manage to end up in a strip club that has nothing but white chicks. It’s about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I think, fine, I’ll hang out here and see what happens.
Here’s what I remember about the experience.
Being taken out of Latin America by plane and dropped into the middle of Anglo America is culturally like being taked out of a warm, comfy bath and dropped into ice water. As I told a Peruvian guy who I met that day, las chicas aqui son frias, i.e. the women here are ice cold. He completely agreed and we further agreed it was the culture more than anything else.
While talking to him, a couple of white girls came around offering dances and VIP ripoffs to a customers sitting around me. I, of course listened to what they had to say to some guys who were obviously regular customers. As they started talking, what were the topics? Career. (Of course.) Shopping. Eating out. Jobs. What material goods she and her friends have and how she’s plotting her strategy to competitively consume with these people. What she wants to have materialistically.
All the programming via social engineering and the media seems to be still working, untarnished in my absence of over a year.
Other thoughts. It’s the strangest thing for a straight man to see a chick naked in front of him and experience the following:
- Thinking how strange the skin color looks (totally white).
- Thinking how very little tits and ass these girls have compared to what girls in Latin America have.
- Thinking how cold their attitudes were towards me and other customers.
- Experiencing a latent feeling of resentment (which I hid with a smile) towards the women, to the point of not wanting to tip them.
I didn’t give them a single $1 bill. I just drank, and looked on, bored really. Maybe it’s because I’ve been getting more ass than a toilet seat over the past few years, but maybe there’s another factor too.
I know all women are in strip clubs for cash, but white chicks’ personalities are so frigid and they have so mistreated me as well as most friends and male acquaintances I’ve known throughout my life they’ve become the equivalent of walking bags of protoplasm to me. Asexual, difficult personalities, self-absorbed, too K-selected to be much fun but somehow taking off their clothes for a living. No conversation beyond lame attempts to sell me a dance and extract some money from my wallet. Typical. I know I’m nothing but a walking, talking utility to you but at least try to have a little humanity, girls.
The second place had mostly Latinas and black chicks, and if nothing else I had some interesting conversations with the dancers who were much friendlier and “warmer” people than the white girls in the other club. The mood of the second place wasn’t as “frio” as the other one.
I actually met a Latina (Mexicana) who was originally from California who was very fun to talk to for a couple of hours. Even though I could tell she has been tainted by her experience in a materialistic, male-hating culture, she still retained some of the Old World charm I’ve grown very fond of over the past decade of being in and out of Latin America. Of course, she wanted to sell dances too but at least I got some sort of human interaction from her. Same deal with the black chicks in there.
I tried a third place in town and it ended up being the same as the other two.
That said, I don’t think the fact white chicks are so dull in strip clubs is race as much as it is culture. Anglo culture pedestalizes women and white women are the most coddled and privileged individuals on this entire planet. Having a K-selected behavioral reportoire also means they are more cunning and less caring when it comes to men. All this is of course, my opinion, based on a lifetime of careful observation.
But in an already jarring experience coming back to The Matrix for a visit, the white strip club visit really seemed to confirm how disjointed and mercenary relations between the sexes have become in 21st century America. It was bizarre. I’m not a hard person to talk to or get along with, yet I felt completely out of place in the white strip club and just thinking to myself how did our women become this bad? Have they always been this bad?
Can’t wait to get back on the plane outta here.
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