A weird things happens when you succumb to your baser instincts. Your baser drives. Your need to be pleasured by the touch of another person's flesh. A person much more attractive than you can ever hope to be. If you do it once, and then once again, the urge to succumb to your baser instincts comes more often and your submission to these baser drives is much easier. Such is the case with me. I've been to the strip club known as Capital Bush. The first time was good, the second time was better, now I wanted a third.
For the uninitiated, Capital Bush is a strip club, but nit the normal kind of strip club you see around here. This strip club offers services that you can't get in any other strip club, specifically things that are expressly forbidden in other establishments. The employees who offer these services to their clientele are among the most influential movers and shakers in the area. These people make sure that they get things done.
This time the urge to succumb to my baser instincts hit me at a different time in the day that it had before. As I made my way out to Capital Bush, gone were the dark streets and rain soaked vagrants. Now Capital Bush was bathed in daylight. This had the effect of making the usually hidden Capital Bush much more easier to see. It could be said that if you were around Capital Bush and did not know what was going on in there, you would be either blind or incredibly unobservant.
When I pulled into the parking lot of Capital Bush I noticed a difference in the kinds of cars that I saw. Gone were the Chevy Impalas and Oldsmobile Cutlass Supremes, replaced with BMWs, GMC Tahoes, and Chevy Suburbans. Not the kind of Suburbans you see drug dealers drive, but the kind you see in high class neighborhoods and parked out in front of exclusive country clubs. The sight of these cars stuck me oddly, but didn't think much of it as I approached the entrance of Capital Bush.
Once I got in I noticed that the usual golden beaming receptionist was not present, but present was a considerable security presence in the entrance of the club. This security presence consisted of several large men with large guns on their sides, all taking orders from a squirrelly looking white guy who looked like he would stand no match against anyone in a fight, much less the armed gentlemen. The security guards saw me and stopped me before I could venture any further into the club beyond just inside the door. One of the guards asked me, "Who are you?"
I responded, "Why do you ask."
Then the squirrelly looking white guy took over. "Gentlemen, let me handle this. Hello sir, my name is
John Dougall. I am the new manager here at Capital Bush. Have you been to this establishment before?
I replied, "Yes, I have. Is there some sort of a problem."
"Have you been to our establishment since new ownership took over."
"I don't think so. The last time I was here was in January."
"Ah, that explains it. You see the new ownership took over in late January."
"Who is the new management?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but the new management goes under the name of the Earl Grey Group." That response struck me more oddly than the sight of the expensive new cars. The next question introduced me to the changes brought by new management. "Are you a member of this establishment?"
"No, I was unaware I needed one."
"Well, we can take care of that right now. First we'll need a photocopy of your driver's license, and your membership fee. We do take check, but we also take-"
"Wait, membership fee?"
Dougall smiled broadly at me and said, "Yes, we will require a membership fee in order to process your membership."
"How much is it?"
"The membership fee?"
"Yes."
"Fifty thousand dollars."
I was shocked by this. If I was drinking something I would have performed a spit take. "Fifty thousand dollars?"
"Yes, that is the membership fee."
"That's more than I make in a year. Hell, that's more than most people make in a year."
The expression of Dougall's face changed when I said this. "First of all, do not swear in our establishment. Second of all, most of the members of this establishment see our membership fee as a small price to pay for the services we render here."
"A small price to pay? Your membership must be loaded."
"Yes, they are. The basic philosophy of the Earl Grey Group, although we would never state so publicly, is that those who are blessed enough to be wealthy are the only ones who matter in our society. As such, we want to tailor our services to their needs. As far as those who are not blessed enough to be able to obtain membership to our club, we do not feel the need to care for those people."
I got visibly upset at this point. "What about the loyal customers this club has untill this point? What about the needs of the good, hard working everyman who just wants to have some absurdly attractive woman fulfill his needs and possible his desires?"
"Sir, I have made myself abundantly clear. If you are unable to understand the desires of the Earl Grey Group on their terms, I will just have to have you removed." Dougall then motioned for the security guards to remove me from the premises of Capital Bush, which they did in a way that was rough, but not rough in a way that would fulfill that particular fetish I have.
While I was picking myself up, I saw another guy sitting by the door of Capital Bush. I had never seen this man before, but seeing as I didn't look around at the other patrons while I was in Capital Bush, it's entirely possible that I've been in the same room as him. This guy was sitting against the wall of the strip club, reading one of the free newspapers that are available along side the taco venders and vagrant hookers downtown. I walked up to this guy and said, "Hey."
The guy looked at me and said, "Hello."
"Did they kick you the fuck out of CB too?"
"Yes, I guess I'm unworthy of their membership. Perhaps I will be one day, but untill then, I can only hope."
I sat down next to the guy and said, "What's your name?"
"Ian, but most people call me Lemming."
"Lemming, what are you reading there?"
"Oh, this is the Salt Lake City Weekly. I'm going to vote for their annual
Best Of Utah awards."
I was interested in this. "Interesting. Who are you going to vote for?"
Lemming was a little offended by this. "Buddy, that is an intensely personal question."
"Sorry."
"But, if you must know, I was thinking of voting for Capital Bush for best strip club."
I was offended buy this. "Why? They just threw you the fuck out of the club. Their stance is that anyone who isn't as rich as they are isn't worthy of even entering their establishment. Why would you vote for them?"
"I voted for them last year."
"Why would you vote for them again?"
"What alternative is there? I mean, if you are sexually motivated person, and you can't get satisfaction on your own, the only place to go is Capital Bush."
"But they won't let you in."
"I know. I know they won't let me in, but what alternative do I have?"
Lemming's words offended me, but somehow rant true. Sure Capital Bush has become an exclusive club for the rich and "worthy", but what other alternative did we have. There was none, if only because Capital Bush had made sure that they were the only option.
I got up and started making my way back over to my car. Before starting my car, I took out my GPS and started searching around. It had been a while since I had searched for alternatives to Capital Bush and I wanted to see if some other places to satisfy my baser urges had popped up. Some had, but not any that were anywhere close to me. The alternatives to Capital Bush that most appealed to me were The
Hollywood Undressed,
Liberal Storm, and
Apple Bottoms. I don't want to have to travel the great distance it takes to partake of the pleasures of these establishments, but I may not have a choice if I want to ever achieve a level of satisfaction that I can derive happiness from.
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