As a male resident of LV, this is an important story.
Strippers Fight To Keep Sin In Sin City
Some Vegas strippers are going to court to keep the sin in Sin City.
The Nevada Supreme Court is hearing a challenge to a city ordinance that bans certain types of touching by exotic dancers. The law makes it a misdemeanor for a stripper to fondle or caress a patron or for the patron to do the same to the dancer.
More than a dozen strippers are challenging the Las Vegas ordinance. Their lawyer contends a stripper could be arrested for merely shaking a customer’s hand.
But a lawyer for the city tells the state high court the terms fondle and caress are clear and the law is constitutional.
What kind of “constitutional” does he mean? The Navada state Constitution? The federal Constitution does not apply here outside of the 10th amendment which clearly allows for this sort of ordnance to be passed.
I was playing hooky from work the other day so I went to New York’s Museum of Modern Art to pass some time. While I was out on the patio taking in some Picasso sculptures a gorgeous, sexy Asian woman came out in the cold air with just her two daughters (?) and her white sherling sweater that was up above her lower-riding tight jeans exposing her cute protuding belly. She pranced around in her three inch black books and even bent down as she took some pictures all the while showing me her back side and her panties that were just below that beautiful valley that just shy of showing. Ahh, what danger a woman puts herself into. She walked right by me and gave me a wide smile. I smiled back. And her nipples– dark and protuding and almost see-through– peaked at the sight of my eyes. It was a glorious tease. A tease that her devilish side totally conquered. I was… I was… no words… just in momentary heaven. Her husband (?) came out after the few minutes of visual intimacy and the show was over. (“Women are so evil”, I whispered).
After that, I took a walk over to the West Side but crossed paths with Times Square where I took notice of a strip joint. Haven’t been to one in years. With a lot of time on my hands I paid the $5 cover charge and the mandatory $6 drink ( a coke). I sat down and right away “China” came over and offered me a private show for $200 where “touching” and “blowjobs” were allowed. I told her I was tired of sex, but just came in to see and not touch. Two more women took their turn to entice me. I watched while a thin girl rode her slim leg up the pole. Another with a huge ass and D-size tits ( and blonde) brought her panties low in front of me and asked if I were tipping. I slid a George down her lanky leg; a swift of sweaty pussy returned a “thank you”. I watched but even though the women were categorically “hot”, there was no Beauty there. Only bodies. No one did anything for me.
I thought about this later on. I see the difference. That day I was involved in two dances. One was free and delighted me. It even turned me on. The other cost me $11 and a couple of one-dollar tips while it showed me live tits and ass but it was dissappointing and ugly.
We love women because of the beauty they hold. When that beauty illuminates from the inside outward, everything is included: lovingness and horniness. When the beauty is only external it doesn’t get pass the skin. All that is left is a hollow female with boobs to sell. The magic is gone. America has lost a sense of magic. Science can prove everything and thus you are nothing but atoms, molecules, chemicals and electric charges zinging through synapses. That is why no one is creating beauty these days. Everything is cardboard beauty. When we believe in a “God”– something higher than ourselves the magic comes back. Beauty is born. Go to Rome. John, you’ve been there. Remember the beauty you saw there? Those were artists and people who believed in God that created the wonder that was built.
There is no beauty today. Because there is no magic.
Jeez, David. You’re turning me on. I’m taking the rest of the day off and going to the museum!
Don, I tell you, there is no explanation for beauty. Sometimes while I’m lying in bed at night I think about existence. It blows my mind. There is no explanation as to why we are here. Everytime I think about it and try to grasp an understanding of everything around me, I always end up screaming out, “FUCK!”. Our minds are no match in trying to understand God– or whoever you want to call our Creator. The closest I can come to understanding existence is believing that I am God and all of you are just pretending until I actually remember that I am God. Kind of like a game where God destroyed himself (so he could forget himself) and created the Universe to amuse himself while he tried to remember Himself through billions of years. That is the only thing that comes close to understanding the mystery of life. It could also mean that I am so sexually deprived that I am hallucinating. The problem is that my hallucinations come true. I think. Anyway, (a babe just called me. I’m meeting her at a bar tonight for Grey Goose shots, but I digress) my favorite quote about beauty is this:
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty. That is all ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know.” — John Keats
Mr. Keats, your story sounds better.
That’s usually called egregious behavior, david. You might turn into “me”.
Where is the line between exotic dancing and prostitution? If shaking a patron’s hand is considered fondling then I agree there is a problem. If, however, the law is more narrowly defined then I don’t see the problem.
Besides, my wife won’t let me go to strip joints so I have no idea what they do in there.