Yes I think going to strip pubs is about sex (22nd Dec 2006)

Yes, I think going to strip pubs is about sex. I only enjoy watching a girl strip if I want to f–k her (for those who like dirty talk). There is nothing worse than watching a girl strip who you do not fancy. This is the time to get up & get another drink or go to the lavatory even if you do not really need to go; although, thinking particularly of Sunset, it always looks so rude when a man gets up & leaves his seat as soon as a girl comes on to dance! I try and do it delicately when her back is turned. The dirtiest striptease I ever saw was Hungarian Janet at the *[Hogarthian place]* dancing to Madonna’s Material Girl this year, during her all too brief stay on these shores. I pray for her return in 2007. Nothing else has ever come close to Janet for pure (!) dirty sexiness. It is almost always all in the eyes, I think. You can be watching a dancer and be completely unmoved, but then she looks you in the eye for a couple of seconds, and straightaway you are turned on, as the “smutty provocations” pass between you. But then that is the same anywhere, of course. Tenseness, Eroticism, Repulsive Pathology. 

The plethora of Christmas decorations hanging down from the Queen Anne ceiling made it seem like a tropical whorehouse; oh, I do apologise, HOThouse. Like a mangrove swamp, with the tendrils of fog curling through the door every now & again easily mistaken for steam; if it wasn’t so fucking cold. And it seemed so DARK in there! Obviously the effect of the new lighting. I like dark, so I am all in favour of this. Also, the music seemed louder than I have ever known it. Still not deafening, but louder than usual. In contrast to the Esteemed Maestro I love going to strip pubs at Christmas as they are so packed & the atmosphere is so good, and the Queen Anne was certainly packed. 

And then, there she was, the loveliness that is Ms Adaire. In Santa hat, and little red lacy Santa outfit {Great Tontoolian Marshes! “And those white Martian Princesses have to be seen to be believed!”}. With no disrespect to the other ladies present I enjoyed watching Redd sitting down more than I did watching the others dancing. Why pay to watch? I’d pay to watch her doing nothing. I’d pay to watch her sleep. Still recovering from my Golden Arm excesses of the previous night, and my weakened body already succumbing to a cold, I would not have bothered coming out for anyone but her. I did not stay long & did not indulge in a private dance as the thought of having to sit on my hands when such temptation was right there in front of me was too much to contemplate. I am not that strong.