OK, I am a man of the world and I have been in strip clubs before. Lets just say, they are a bit like eating MacDonald’s. The thought comes first, the food second, and the disappointment, last. They never match the expectation, particularly when portrayed on movies and the like. How we got there? Well, it all started with drinking.

A few of us were drinking down at the Classic Comedy bar, swapping jokes and stories, as you do, when a couple of out of Towner’s (normally the culprits) suggested the White House as our next drinking stop. The classic was closing and we were asked to leave. After having sunk several glasses of brown liquid macho adrenialin, a trip to the White House seemed a perfect idea. So off we climbed (Queen Street is quite steep!)

You realise at the door, this place is expensive, big sweeping majestic stairs and closed glass doors that would keep terrorists at bay. A locked booth that you paid at and they gave you an invisible stamp on the wrist. It only shows up under a neat little blue light they keep on the desk. If you nip outside for a smoke, you can come back in and prove you already paid. Keeps the deadbeats out I’m guessing. We handed over the entrance fee; lots of green notes (Funny how money has no value when you are drunk) and in we went.

The place is well spaced out; bar at the back selling beer and spirits at normal over-the-top inner city prices (must be the rent they pay) and the action at the other end. Drop dead gorgeous girls in hot pants and crop tops sit amongst the crowd, taking in the show.

We have timed it well, a new act about to start. The music starts, a lovely looking woman in American Indian garments (not authentic mind you - if they all dressed like that back in 1800, Custer and his men would not have been shooting their guns) struts out full of confidence looking a million dollars and dances around the catwalk. Then it’s onto the poles, she lithes up the poles, and suddenly slides down at break neck speed, stopping inches from the bottom. Impressive stuff! The music, the costumes, her impressive body (she must have all the abb liner gear bought on TV at home) combine to make a great show. The crowd are taking notice, clapping and cheering. Women (yes there were a couple of young women sitting up front with their men) also cheer and admire. It was quite a show. I was quite taken by it all until she started to lose her costume. The first bits are lost and then more, then more then no more left to lose. It takes a special confidence to stand naked in front of a crowd like that. Still, if you look like you work out ten hours a day and are at your prime ages wise, then that is the time to do it. But the crowd goes a bit silent, and I start to look away. Especially when she is at eye level bending and twisting. Like I said, you have up sized the combo, and now the food is not tasting so good. I start to feel like a pervert and want to go.