Solid Gold!

You may remember last year I told you that my friend Nick is getting married on Spleen Day. Well, it's only a couple of weeks away now, which means I'm going to have to polish up the speech I'll be giving at the reception. And by polish up, I mean start. It has to be good, not only because Nick is my best friend, but it's the only thing I was required to do.

Nick couldn't choose a best man, so he opted for four "better men," each with their own responsibility. I'm giving the speech, Jose is going to be standing at the altar for the ceremony, Wah-Kee arranged the bachelor party, and Chris...I'm not actually sure what Chris does. He's kind of like the Professor and Mary Anne. You know, Jose, John, Wah-Kee and the rest.

Wah-Kee got his duties out of the way on Saturday with the bachelor party at the Foxy Lady in Providence. In addition to the groom and the four best men, a couple of guys Nick knows from Best Buy (Frank and Donut) and Kee's brother Wah-Shing came along. So the eight of us crammed into my mom's minivan. There wasn't enough room, so I opted to climb in the back and lie down in the trunk like I did when we went to New Jersey a few years ago. The trunk is really just the space behind the last row of seats, so it's not like being in the trunk of a car, although I guess Wah-Kee would know about that more than I would. He once rode in the trunk of his brother's car because there was no room. So he climbed in the trunk, and pounded on the seats because he wanted then to turn the music up. Then the pounding stopped. When they opened the trunk, he was curled up in a ball, not moving. After poking him for a while, he finally woke up. Aparently, there was a leak in Wah-Shing's exhaust, which made Wah-Kee sleepy.

The back of the minivan wasn't so bad. It's kind of comfortable. Until a car in front of us stopped short and Kee, who was driving for some reason, swerved violently into the breakdown lane. My life once again flashed before my eyes, and looking back I realized that the scariest moments involved Wah-Kee behind the wheel.

When we finally got to the place, we each threw down the fifteen dollar cover charge, in exchange for an oversized coin that opens the turnstile. I had some issues trying to get through. The coin would not go in. I tried angling it differently and it still wouldn't fit. Eventually, I got it, but not before dropping my wallet and providing some unintentional pre-show entertainment for the others.

Wah-Kee is something of a strip club junkie. He couldn't wait to go, and it's a pretty safe bet that he was more excited about this little trip than Nick or the rest of us. I felt a little uncomfortable, honestly. I've never really been to a gentleman's club before. A guy from work did take me to a seedy back alley place on my 21st birthday, where a stripper with an AARP card was eyeing me like I was the last can of Ensure. But the Foxy Lady is swank. It's more than swank. It's solid gold.There were black lights and purple neon signs everywhere. It looked like the strip clubs you see in movies. Not the movies about strip clubs, but the movies that have one or two scenes in a strip club, like when someone's making a drug deal or ordering a mob hit. There might have even been some drug deals and mob hits going down that night. Solid gold. Every once in a while, a big hulking monstrosity with a neck thicker than my waist would walk by. There were a couple of them. Big, bald slabs of intimidation squeezed into fancy tuxes. I guess every strip club needs to have a few guys like that on their payroll, incase some of the more frisky clientele need to be gently persuaded off the premises. Solid gold.

The waitresses were easy to spot because they all wore white lingerie, while there was another set of women dressed as nurses offering back rubs. Offering probably isn't the right word, since they cost a minimum of $10. And they're not too keen on the barter system. Nick tried to convince one girl to give him a back rub in exchange for one from him. Wah-Shing said he would pay for Nick if he wanted, but Nick said, "Na. Hedie gives better back rubs anyway." That was sort of sweet. Maybe I'll use that in my speech.

Before we got to the club, Wah-Kee told us that we'd be hearing a lot of "Girls Girls Girls" by AC/DC. I looked at Jose, then Jose said "Don't you mean Motley Crue?"

"Whatever. Eighties hair band. Same thing."

AC/DC is not an eighties hair band; they've been around since the seventies. And they don't have big hair. How can you confuse the two? Motley Crue is the one with Tommy Lee. AC/DC is the one with Cobra Commander.

But he was right about one thing. Every hour, on the hour, the sound of engines revving was piped through the sound system, followed by the increasingly familiar first hooks of "Girls Girls Girls" For this was the Super Saturday Night Spectacular featuring the Solid Gold Foxy Ladies of 2005, or something. The announcer probably threw "Solid Gold" in there a few more times. That was his thing. He kept saying "Solid Gold," working it into almost every sentence. And since he spoke after every song, we heard it quite a few times. It's not as if he was just arbitrarily saying "Solid Gold" though, there was a reason behind it. All of the dancers on stage went through various stages of undress, stopping when they were topless. But downstairs in the Gold Room or whatever they called it, they were completely nude. If a girl was "Solid Gold" that meant that you could also see her downstairs. But I don't think there was one girl that wasn't solid gold, because he said it at the end of every sentence. Solid gold.

Anyway, they played "Girls Girls Girls" and all the girls who had previously been on stage by themselves came out at the same time, then walked out into the club, asking patrons if they would like a lap dance. For $30. Or, you could take advantage of their special two for one deal, two songs for $40. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why they called it two for one, since two songs for the price of one would still only be $30. It should have been "two for one and a half." I was asked a few times if I would like a dance. The presence of those scary bald guys kept me in check, so I opted for a polite "No thank you." instead of "Not if I have to pay for it I don't." $30. Psssh. I don't even get to pick the song. That would be different, because then you could pick one of those twenty minute Pink Floyd songs, or better yet, an hour and a half of Native American chanting. That would be worth a couple twenties. I got a bit of a rush saying no to beautiful women. It was like "No. Ha! The tables have turned! How do you like the bitter sting of rejection? Hurts, don't it?"

One of them got a little aggressive, asking why I was here if I didn't want I dance. I told her I was here for my friend's bachelor party. "Are you afraid of women or something?" This might have been more directed at Chris, who did, in fact, appear to be frightened, but I told her that my girlfriend would smell another girl on me and I'd just rather watch. What's wrong with just watching? I like Bruce Willis movies, but that doesn't mean I'd pay him to find my kidnapped family.

I didn't end up spending any money on strippers. I just felt too weird about it. It's not that they weren't good or anything (although there was one girl with pancake boobs.) it's just that I'm a one-woman guy. I don't want to pay some strange woman who doesn't even know me for something I can get at home for free, from a woman who actually cares about me. I did part with some cash, though. The $15 cover, for starters, and an $8 Woo Woo. A Woo Woo is vodka, cranberry juice and peach schnapps. Nick says Woo Woos taste like happy. I'd have to say that I concur. I had a couple of Woo Woos, but only paid for one of them. I almost bought Nick one, but it was only because the waitress put my drink down in front of him and he drank it while I was paying for it. He gave me some money to by another one, but I should have told him to keep it, since it was his bachelor party, after all. But I didn't, because I didn't have enough money and I really wanted some more happy.

By the end of the night, Jose, Chris and I hadn't done much of anything except change seats a few times. Donut only got up once in a while to go outside and smoke. Nick had a few drinks, but that was it. Frank had a few beers and got a three-song dance for at least $70. But Wah 1 and Wah 2...they were living it up. I think Wah Shing got a couple of back rubs, and I don't think the second one was really necessary. I mean really, how tense could he be?I think Wah-Kee got himself a lap dance or three as well. Overall, I have no idea how much those two spent, but it was easily more than the rest of us combined, even with Frank's dance.

I fell asleep in the trunk on the ride home, so I missed all the excitement. I guess I just assumed Jose was going to drive home, since he didn't touch a drink all night, but Wah-Kee ended up driving again and somehow took a wrong turn. He got off 95 and got on 295, then got back onto 95 again. Or something like that, I was trying to sleep. Even though I didn't take full advantage of being in a room full of topless women, I still had a fun time. Not just a fun time. A solid gold time.