Beaverton, OR: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Stripclubs

I’m back from Beaverton! First away gig outside of Washington(if you ignore my trip to NYC and DC). Ok, first PAID away gig outside of Washington. I got to stay in a real hotel, the Shiloh Inn Beaverton. Excellent place for $68 dollars a night. They’ve got a sports lounge, cigar bar, continental breakfast (which I never was up early enough to eat), jacuzzi, fitness center. I didn’t use ANY of these things while I was there mind you, but they were available. The only downsides was anything white and linen in the room smelled horribly of chlorine bleach, and I could hear if the guy 14 doors down turned on his TV cause the walls were just that good.

The shows themselves where a learning experience to say the least. I learned the following things this weekend:

  • Do not tell jokes that are localized to Seattle outside of Seattle. At the very least, try to localize the punchline to where you are or tell a different punch line that doesn’t care about road or casino names.
  • Never make fun of the local bar where everyone hangs out, even if everyone in there is really disgusting and crazy from your point of view. No one cares about your point of view, unless it’s written material.
  • Even if the punch line isn’t remotely racist, people in both Kirkland and now Beaverton are proven not to laugh if the words “black people” come at the end of a joke.
  • People in Oregon think strip club jokes are funny.

So more on this last point. I used to hate strip clubs. Emphasis on the used (just in case you couldn’t see the bolded part). Really, its true. My first two trips to strip clubs have been terrible and scary. I went with people that had no idea what they were doing to places that catter to people having no clue what they are doing. Two wrongs make a horrifying, potentially scaring situation. Solution, go with people that know what they are doing to places that are awesome. Enter my friend (name suppressed on purpose) and the Dolphin II (a place not a person).

I did not want to go, not one bit. The part of me that has gotten totally fucked over by visits one and two to these kinds of places was screaming, “get the fuck out of the car and walk back to the Shiloh!” My friend turns to me, explains the pros to visiting an establishment such as the Dolphin II. I wasn’t going to get hustled. I could pay my cover, get one drink and sit and no one would bother me if that’s what I wanted. Sounded like a fair deal. I was calmed a bit. I went in. I got a drink, but was still incredibly nervous. Went to the bathroom. They had a bathroom attendant that looked straight out of “Fantasy Island”. Ok this is getting better. Wait a second, the girls here are really attractive, and I get to pick where I sit, and, holy crap, this drink is delicious and was decently priced. Where the fuck am I? Beaverton Oregon mutha fucka!

Once seated, my friend turns to me and says, “Ok, you don’t have to use these, but when you are ready, mosey up to the pit (where the ladies were dancing) and place a couple of these on the edge like that guy is doing if you want them to dance near you”, and hands me a stack of 10 ones. Needless to say, I went through the stack of 10 ones, and a bunch more ones, and a couple $20s. I bought a lap dance from a lady named “Silk”. She rubbed the crap out of my hair and it was awesome. She also said I looked like John Lennon. Ladies, take note. My friends bought me a second dance from a stripper named “Jordan”. Jordan complimented me on how good I smelled. In reality she, whether she knew it or not, was actually complimenting Silk on her use of perfume and Juicy Fruit since that is what she was probably smelling on me.

In the end, I ended up checking into my hotel at 3am. Thankfully there was somebody there. THAT would have sucked. He was like, “you with the comedy show?” Heh, how did you know? The rest of the weekend was excellent. Had some great times with all of my Portland area friends, some good breakfast foods, and almost got snowed in for a couple of days. Good thing I have chains for the VW Rabbit. I can’t wait to go back and visit Portland, and the ladies at the Dolphin II.

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