Does a man have to be old, annoying and curmudgeonly before he gives up strippers and the stripping scene?
Or will a champagne bottle cracked over his head make him see the light?
I’m 61 years old and have no use for strippers, strip clubs or stripper parties.
Jacoby Jones, a wide receiver and kick returner for the Baltimore Ravens, is only 29.
Last season, Jones caught a game-tying touchdown pass in a crucial Ravens playoff win over the Denver Broncos. He also caught a touchdown pass in the Ravens’ Super Bowl XLVII victory over the San Francisco 49ers.
By every measure, Jones had an outstanding 2012 season. His 2013 season has begun, to say the least, a lot less auspiciously.
In the Ravens season opener against the Broncos, Jones hurt his knee after a collision with one of his own teammates. It was the kind of freak injury you’d expect a Ravens player to get in a game where Broncos quarterback Peyton Manning torched them with a record-tying seven touchdown passes.
Jones was recovering from his knee injury earlier this week, when he decided to board a party bus with strippers.
A fracas broke out. According to news reports, a stripper creased Jones across the head with a champagne bottle.
Yes, Jones is the guy mentioned above who should learn from this incident. The truth is, all men can learn from it.
Fellas, nothing good comes of attending strip clubs and strip parties. Yes, many of us – the straight ones among us, anyway – have gotten that thrill from having gorgeous, scandalous, nearly butt-naked hoochies shake their hineys in our faces.
But the novelty of that kind of wears off after the first time.
The downside of the stripper/stripping scene is worse than any upside, and there’s only one upside: that would be the aforementioned gorgeous, scandalous, nearly butt-naked hoochies shaking their hineys in our faces.
That upside isn’t worth dealing with the downside, or, more accurately, the downsides.
Remember Sean Bell’s tragic shooting in New York City back in 2006?
It was Nov. 25. Bell, who was supposed to be married the next day, attended a bachelor party at the Kalua Cabaret Strip Club.
Would Bell have been there had he known NYPD undercover cops were investigating allegations of drug offenses and prostitution at the joint?
We’ll never know the answer to that question, but what we do know is this: apparently undercover cops, mistakenly, got the idea that either Bell or a companion of his was toting a gun and about to use it in an altercation.
Bell and his friends left the club and went to his car. As he was pulling off, Bell, according to a news story on the nbcnews.com Web site, “bumped and rammed an unmarked police van.”
Trigger-happy undercover cops went buck wild after that, firing nearly 50 shots into Bell’s car. He was killed.
I in no way excuse those trigger-happy cops. My point is that a strip club whose owners and employees are under police investigation for drug offenses and prostitution shouldn’t surprise us.
A fight breaking out on board a “party bus” – one in which strippers are present and where Jacoby Jones gets his skull cracked open – shouldn’t surprise us either.
Let me approach this from another angle: would you want a man that regularly attends strip clubs dating YOUR daughter?
I certainly wouldn’t, and I’m happy to have a daughter who wouldn’t dream of talking to a guy that all but homesteaded in strip clubs.
It might be the womenfolk that break us men of our strip club/stripper obsession. Our daughters might shame us into doing so. In my case, it was a granddaughter that terrified me into giving up strip clubs.
Her name is Kaila Danielle Cherry. She’s 13 years old now, but when she was only 7, she got her little self on the telephone and asked me a question.
“Has Congress apologized to black people for slavery and segregation?” she wanted to know.
I told her Congress did make an apology for slavery.
“What about segregation?” she immediately asked.
It was then that I realized I most certainly did NOT want to have to explain my attendance in a strip joint to Kaila Danielle Cherry.
Yes, it took a 7-year-old girl to make me realize I was too old, annoying and curmudgeonly to make the strip club scene.