My lap is still a virgin. At first I felt like a big chicken, a wussy, a something not deserving of cookies and ice cream, or at least a sound spanking, but here is what happened.
On Saturday night I ran into the Extra Action Marching Band in North Beach right before their secret gig, which was earlier than I thought, and followed them to their destination. Carrying a horn case for a member that had a Good Vibes "I’d Rather be Masturbating" sticker on it, I seemed to blend in a little. They had been hired to play a surprise gig for a man who was proposing marriage to his girlfriend, and his friends were secretly letting the band in with a key, supposedly while said proposal was happening in his North Beach apartment. Watching thirty uniformed musicians with their instruments and a squad of uniformed flag girls (and boys) quietly sneak in the side entrance of the building was one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen… but not until the whole band erupted into their tiny bedroom and started playing! The couple was consummating the proposal, and were actually naked and in the act when the tubas and flags burst in, and two horn players, two flag girls and two drummers jumped into/on the bed with the naked couple. The tuba player knocked the light fixture and the lights swung crazily as the band played and the flag team danced all over them and the furniture (standing room only. in the bedroom). The couple were laughing and screaming, and the woman at first hid her body under the covers, then yanked all the sheets and blankets off them both! Outside, the ruckus had all the neighbors out on the sidewalk, and someone ran out of the apartment to tell the now-huge crowd that had gathered, "She said ‘Yes’!" The crowd erupted into applause, and then the band piled out of the apartment, still playing, and did a whole routine in the street, forcing traffic to stop. Then they went back to a North Beach club on Broadway, still marching and playing, stopping even more traffic along the way.
A cute marching band boy knew about my idea to get my first lap dance that night and wanted to be supportive, and said he’d walk with me over to the Lusty. We got there, and at the door I saw an old dear friend who still works there (haven’t seen her in years, was really happy to see her actually). It immediately felt social, not sexual, to be there. Anyway, my friend said she’d love to help me out and would gladly arrange a lapdance from "that beautiful redhead over there," who wasn’t my type at all. So instead, I said we’d look around first and we went into the little rooms where you put the money in the slot and the window slides up. The little room was smelly, and the women behind the glass were very far away. I waited, and waited, and realized that my money/time would run out before anyone came over.
So I was nonplussed. We went to leave, and my friend said all right, I’m showing you around. She took me in back and showed me where the lapdances were going on and the topless shoeshines, and explained how to ask for a dance. I thanked her, she left and I stood there being ignored, trying to check out the girls and realizing they weren’t even close to my type, or anything near, and the lapdances were near the urinal and it smelled disgusting. My horn-playing escort asked if I wanted to get a lapdance and I said I thought my imagination was better, and this rancid smell makes me sick, can we get away from the urinal?
We went into the hall and I was kind of laughing. I told him I wished there was a fast-forward button like when I watch porn. I told him I felt lame being ignored by girls who weren’t my idea of sexy, and that I almost did it anyway because he was there, and he said he didn’t like the girls either, and that it wasn’t just me and he was worried I was going to do it for his benefit and not myself. It was all kind of funny and we were making each other laugh. The woman behind the glass for the private shows in the hall was watching us. She was hot. She was in a glass cube. In truth, my friend was the sexiest woman there, and she was not working, which is a lot of weird concepts all rolled into one when you think about it. I was still turned off by the smell, definitely not wet or aroused but feeling kinda like I was trying to fit into a suit that was not my size. Was I a failure? Too discriminating about my taste in women? I was assured I wasn’t, and told that the Lusty wasn’t what real strip clubs are like. I said, let’s go get a beer, so we went back to the club and the guys razzed me about being a sexpert lap dance virgin.
I vowed to try again, especially after watching the really great KRON (channel 4 here in the Bay Area) special, San Francisco: Sex and the City. Watch it if you can, it really shows how amazingly rich and diverse and deep the sex culture is here in SF. Sex culture is way more progressive here than anywhere else, and the show’s history, from Lenny Bruce and Carol Doda to Good Vibes, Exotic Erotic, the Mitchell Bros. and SIR Productions is wonderfully presented. Besides the fact that I keep being asked why I wasn’t on the show (I was out of town when the Good Vibes footage was shot), I felt that the show could’ve included more, been a few shows — there was a lot missing. Like locals Nina Hartley and Annie Sprinkle, and more. I still enjoyed it immensely. Especially because in the Mitchell Bros. footage they forgot to pixelate one of the very sexy strippers’ pussies, and her clit is huge! Unintentional porn is often the best kind. Speaking of porn, I should get back to work and go watch some porn for Good Vibes. Tomorrow night at eight I’m reading at the Good Vibes Valencia St. store with Carol Queen and Thomas Roche from Thomas’ and Alison Tyler’s latest books, His and Hers. Problem is, Thomas has been sick and I don’t know what I’m reading! Oh well, it’ll be interesting.
