Day 2 of Vacation: Hot Bodies

So, apparently this is my weekend of firsts. On Friday I received my first lap dance and yesterday I went to my first gay bar on purpose. If I recall correctly, in May of 2012 I accidentally found myself in one when I followed my sister and her friends to a club in Oakland. I say accidentally because the girls were looking forward to dancing at this particular club they'd been to before but we walked into LGBT night. Females made up most of the clientele that day. I had short hair then--think P!NK or Miley Cyrus-- and I didn't want to encounter any awkwardness with the ladies. Luckily, my then boyfriend was with me so I clung to him the entire time. We sat at the bar where my sister and her posse flirted with the straight bartenders as they had done previously. We were even invited to stay after hours to sip on free beer. 

But this time it was by choice. Jackie's friend who was in town for the weekend invited her to The Abbey in West Hollywood. So Jackie invited me too. I was hesitant at first. I'm not gay so I didn't see the point in wasting my time at a gay bar. But a friend suggested that I be open to new experiences. So I considered it. If I could get my drink and dance on, what would be the issue? My decision was final when I found the perfect pair of pants at JCP in the clearance rack for fifteen dollars. They were a shimmery lilac with zippers at the ankles that felt like plastic when I put them on. Paired with a black shirt and the shoes I bought last month at DSW, I was ready to be a part of the WeHo scene. 

Hot day-um, that's a dirty mirror.

Yes, I matched my nails and eye shadow to my pants.

We were totally safe--she never took her eyes off the road.

In the WeHo district.

In front of The Abbey.

I was so ready to party it up when we arrived--the no cover charge had a lot to do with it. I quickly spotted a hot shirtless male behind the bouncer that I wanted to take a picture with. When I mentioned this to Jackie, she thought I wanted the mad looking guy in the suit who did a double-take verifying my ID to take a pic of me and her. The moment was lost and I followed her inside in search of her friend.

Her friend was waiting at the bar and in no time, male dancers appeared to do their thang. One of them stood right next to me on the bar and of course, I didn't let that photo-op moment pass me by.

Happy much?

I was thirsty and wanted a drink pronto. But Jackie didn't know what she wanted. So she got on her phone and started looking for a drink she'd had and loved. Had it been a sidecar? Did it have whiskey? She didn't know. After extensive research, she decided she wanted a beer. A beer! But now there was a problem. The male dancer was dancing between us and the bartenders. I volunteered to stick my head between his legs in order to get our drinks but Jackie and her friend looked at me like I was crazy. So I pointed to the bar in the back that was clear of toned, hairless bodies.

Pride

Just enjoying the view...

The atmosphere was fun as we sipped our drinks. There was a black guy pulling off ballet moves on the dance floor while a Hispanic-looking male couple made out in the middle of the crowd. Jackie caught up with her friend as I took in every male dancer trying to figure out if he was gay or not. The ones who allowed themselves to be felt up I categorized as gay. One seemed to be flirting with a girl across the dance floor. 

I moved my upper body to the monotonous beat of the music when suddenly another species emerged, the female kind. A girl in a very minimalist Tinker Bell-esque outfit replaced the Asian male dancer with nipple rings. It seemed like the entire club had stopped what they were doing to look at her. Even Jackie and her friend shut up. We stared at Tinker Bell admiring her moves, her body, and her confidence. Her hair was messy with the humidity and all I kept thinking was, Oh yeah, sure, if I wear my hair like that in public I look like a witch but she gets paid not to run a comb through hers. She pulled herself up on the poles in the air and did a split. She was amazing. I told Jackie, "I want her ass." She said she wanted Tinker Bell's entire physique. "She has to be Brazilian," Jackie concluded. "No plastic surgery is capable of creating such a perfect butt."

This is the best shot I got of Tinker Bell's ass. Enjoy, females, males, and intersex. 

Now, I hope you don't take these thought processes as any indication that Tinker Bell turned my sister and me gay. It is very natural for women to check out other women as men check out men at the gym. Just like men compare their pecs, arms, and abs, to others', we notice boobs and butts. And just like straight men cannot stop staring at a perfect body like Tinker Bell's, we couldn't either. It was crazy watching her grab female client's faces and shoving them in her butt and then giving them a kiss. I asked Jackie, "How much do you think those ladies gave her to receive that kind of treatment?" I have to imagine those bills have two zeros after a one. 

In no time, The Abbey became a fire hazard. There were more people stuffed in there than there should have been. We tried dancing but the only moves I pulled off came by getting bumped, pushed, and shoved from people crossing from one end of the bar to the other. It was hot and the music was redundant. I sometimes caught verses of one of my favorite songs embedded in the lyric-less dance music and I seized the moment. But I just kept eyeing a spot in the outdoor patio where I knew my claustrophobia would be under control. 

Sardines.

Inside joke.

I wasn't trying to be a party pooper but I wanted to leave; there was no room to walk or even stand. I suggested to Jackie that we go bar hopping but she and her friend were having a good time, plus the other places had a cover charge. At one point, one of the male dancers on his break made his way past us and left all of his sweat on our arms and clothes. Even a group of gay guys next to us squirmed with disgust while they rubbed themselves clean against each other. 

Jackie and her friend finally decided to take it to the patio. On our way to the bar for some water, I felt someone tug at my arm. When I turned around, there was a white guy smiling at me, signaling to go to him with his hand. I couldn't tell if he was gay or not so I laughed and kept walking. While it was a bit cooler there, the scene remained the same. People walked back and forth as if on moving walkways like the ones found at airports or casinos. I was so bored that I took a bunch of pictures of my shoes. Then I told Jackie to time me because I was going to tie a knot with the cherry stem. It took me about 45 seconds. I went back to staring at the dancers after that. 

Since it was my second straight day (no pun intended) in heels, my feet were done. Jackie's friend found me a chair that had a pretty good view of one of the dancers with the cute smile I had pointed out earlier. I took one picture of him but he gestured that I take another. So cocky, no pun intended there either. 

And then, out of no where, I saw my sister nod towards the exit. It was music to my ears. I told my feet to bare with me, that they'd be free soon. As we made our way to the parking lot across the street, we saw that the line to The Abbey was as long as a street block. I could not believe that people were still arriving or in line for a place with no room for them. But that was not my problem. The valet dude brought our car, off came my shoes, and I headed home content and chatty. 

I don't think I'll find myself at The Abbey again but at least it's another experience under my belt :)