Hurricane Hotties: Stripping During Sandy
Driving north through Georgetown, seeking refuge at home as Hurricane Sandy turned into a monster storm, a sign with bright orange letters caught my eye: ”Yes, We’re OPEN.”
While I didn’t particularly want to get out of my warm, dry car and brave the sheets of rain and howling wind, I knew — journalistically speaking – that this was a story. A story that might illuminate the essence of our culture. Since most of the nation’s capital was shut down, I had to go inside to report, because that’s what journalists do, right?
The public needs to know why the Good Guys Club, a landmark strip joint on the edge of one of the nation’s toniest shopping districts, felt it necessary to throw caution to the wind and serve customers seeking sexually-tinged shelter in a storm.
Walking through the slightly ajar front door, and then another sturdy, closed door, I spotted a handful of people nursing drinks in the darkly lit room. The song I’m a Freak blared on the sound system.
One customer stood very close as two topless women—almost bottomless, on closer inspection–draped themselves around poles illuminated by spotlights.
“We’re the same,” said Tim, a manager, “as any other”—and here he uses airquotes—“’food and beverage’ place.” Not even during Snowmageddon in 2010, which dumped nearly two feet of snow on Washington, did Good Guys close. Indeed, selflessly serving its customers is clearly a point of pride: “We’re open 365 days a year.”
Kind of gives new meaning to the term “essential services.” President Obama may have shut down the federal government. Businesses, schools and law firms were shuttered for the day. But men ogling scantily-clad women—well, the show must go on.
The time had come to talk to the talent. There would be no Good Guys Club without the women who disrobe.
I found a young woman in a black bustier, fishnet stockings and a blonde wig, who preferred, for obvious reasons, not to be named.
“Georgetown Cupcake is open down the street,” said the well-endowed, slightly overweight stripper. “I know men would much rather come here.”
She was right. Lust takes many forms—the cupcakes are delicious—but only certain kinds of desires warrant braving a hurricane. In the end, for some, sex trumps Sandy.
With that, I had my story and went back into the drenching rain.
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