A couple of Saturdays ago, Morah and I went to The Torch Lounge in Coeur d’Alene with a friend to see a friend of his friend dance. She had been asking him to come for months, and since it was her last night working there, he decided to go before he never had the chance again (and who could blame him – she’s hot).
Going to The Torch Lounge was an interesting look into a subculture that I never knew existed, and for which I wouldn’t have imagined there would be a demand.
Here’s basically how it works: It’s laid out like a strip club, with a bar along one wall and a stage in the middle of the room. On stage there’s a stripper pole, and patrons sitting at the stage are expected to tip. The girls dance and strip, but the main difference is that they never actually get naked (something which I came to describe as strip-not-stripping).
Perhaps you are, at this point, wondering how they can strip without getting naked. It’s quite simple: they wear multiple pairs of underwear. The bottom-most set of panties and bra tended to be black, which led me to wonder if, much as the audience of a bunraku performance is supposed to pretend not to see the black-clad puppeteers, I was supposed to pretend her last layer of clothing wasn’t being worn.
Each of the girls had what could be classified as “signature” moves, and each had a repertoire that included some pretty standard stripper techniques (this is mild conjecture, based entirely upon what I’ve seen in movies, as well as my own limited exposure to strippers).
Whenever our friend-of-a-friend was up to dance, we would sit at the stage and give her the requisite tips, in return for which she would dance. After a while, Morah and I felt bad for the other strip-not-strippers, so we sat at the stage for each of them, as well.
Really, though, nothing any of the girls did was worth the money. Granted, the eye-candy was nice, and we all enjoyed ourselves, but looking around the room at all of the slack-jawed, horny young men (and women. One girl was there with her mother, who I’m pretty sure had recently come out as a lesbian), I couldn’t help but wonder why everyone wouldn’t just go to Stateline Showgirls – an actual strip club, and a mere 12 miles away.
The experience was interesting, to say the least, but I certainly wouldn’t have any desire to go when I could go to a real strip club and see women get naked, or better yet, just stay home and save the money.0 People like this. Be the first!