On Friday, after the Interpol show, I was somehow coaxed to head from the State Theater over to the bars on First Avenue in Downtown Minneapolis. Sweet, buttery Christ, I somehow ended up at drink! The only thing I can say in my defense is that I can apparently be talked into damn near anything after shots of tequila and Jameson.
As we walked, we went past the Skyway Lounge, which just happens to be my very favorite strip club. It is the place where Diablo Cody got her start and the scene of one of my most favorite birthday memories.
I had to tell Macho Man the story of my Stripper Shirt from the Skyway. I'm pretty sure it was my 27th birthday, but the World's Worst Wing Woman swears it was a couple of years after that. That's mostly irrelevant. (Perhaps I should have looked at the shirt. It clearly says "Happy 28th Birthday." I am a moron.)
The day started with Blondie at the Timberwolves game. After that, she and I went to the original Buca to meet a bunch of other people for dinner. Since it was a Sunday, the crowd thinned considerably after dinner. The World's Worst Wing Woman, a few of my coworkers from Dayton's, a friend from high school and I trekked to The Local for more drinks. After The Local, we decided we needed to head to the bars on First Avenue.
Oh, but on the way! On the way we passed The Skyway Lounge. Someone decided we should go in. Once inside, Dean, one of my Dayton's coworkers, decided he would spring for the $25, three-lap dance special. This all happened while the World's Worst Wing Woman was in the loo (apparently puking). She didn't so much approve. When we were leaving, she said, "I leave you alone for five minutes, and I come back to find you on stage getting lap dances." Yeesh, Mom. At least I was getting lap dances and not giving them.
Side note: One of my other favorite stripper-related memories is this: Blondie and I were waiting for a porta-loo while tailgating before a Vikings game. A girl from Sheik's is handing out free passes. She gives one to Blondie, turns to me and as she is handing a pass to me says, "You know, we're hiring." I laughed my ass off. The poor girl asked, "Why has everyone I said that to today laughed at me?" Oh honey. I don't even know where to start with that one.
But back to the Skyway -- to this day, it is one of my best birthday gifts ever. But not necessarily because of the lap dances (though, they were nice). No, the best part of the night was the t-shirt I got after the lap dances. Each of the strippers (Jayda, Remy and Candy) signed the shirt. But Candy had a bit of trouble.
Now, the girls didn't use a Sharpie. No, they had one of those super-stinky, almost industrial markers -- they're metal and the body of the marker is kind of tan with white. And Candy, for whatever reason (maybe she started signing her real name?), had to scribble out what she wrote originally and then resign her name. That was all kinds of awesome.
After we left the Skyway, we went to another bar, where we saw (and I talked mad shit about) Jim Kleinsasser and Chris Hovan, who were both with the Vikings at the time. We managed to get a Sharpie from the bartender and proceeded to add more graffiti to the shirt. It probably takes a bit away from the original awesomeness on the shirt, but it's a really great reminder of an awesome birthday.
I kinda can't believe I still have the t-shirt. But why would I get rid of it?