Interview Success and Silicone Sadness

Well, I’d like to report that the interview I last posted about went beautifully. Lisa Ann is not nearly as intimidating in person as she seems she might be, and we had a lovely late lunch and very successful interview. It’ll be up tomorrow on WHACK! Magazine.

The evening of the interview, Lisa invited myself and my publisher, j. vegas, to a party she was hosting at Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club in Manhattan. I was reluctant to go, as sometimes “porn parties” can be… well… awkward. There have been a few where, despite press credentials and all the best intentions, all attempts at interviews and mingling have been crushed by throngs of fans and a lack of organization. But I then learned that there was an open bar and free food at this party: I’ve been to Sapphire before, and the drinks are normally upwards of $18. Any opportunity to stick it to such a stingy-ass bar seemed worth it to me. And so I trooped up to the East side with several friends in tow to take advantage of Lisa’s hospitality.

And take advantage we did! We got premium seats, table service, and a great view of the dancers. Sapphire really is a nice club, and the free drinks helped me appreciate it more. Some of their dancers, notably Rosa and Victoria, are talented and–best of all–enthusiastic about what they do. So many exotic dancers seem to take their time on stage as an opportunity to slouch on the pole and wiggle, as if it’s a cigarette break with music or something. And trust me, I understand that dancing is tiring: I was a go-go dancer myself for a while, and shaking your ass for twenty minutes at a time really is exhausting. But, come on ladies, that’s why you’re there. It’s your job. So I like Sapphire, because there are few of these phoning-it-in types, and more women who seem to really enjoy what they’re doing, love showing off their talents with the pole, or their bodies, or what have you, and don’t even seem to care so much about the tips. It makes me feel good to see women getting down with themselves like that–and the crowd loves it.

One thing, however, that I do not love: really bad implants. They seem to abound in the NYC strip club scene, perching atop otherwise normal bodies like hyper-inflated beach balls that never bounce. I just can’t abide them. The whole point of a gyrating female body on display, as far as I’m aware, is that it jiggles a little. It shakes. The squishy parts get to show their squishiness. Right? That’s the appeal? Or am I just out of the loop? Cause if so, I should be told. I just don’t enjoy the sight of breasts that don’t jiggle at all. And it makes me wonder why on earth the women who got them didn’t go back to their plastic surgeons and demand a refund. I know that breast enhancement surgery isn’t all that pricey, but I’d damn well want my $3,000 for a pair of sweater puppies that look more like torpedoes than breasts! And the thing is, there are very nice-looking implants out there. I’ve seen a lot of them. Many porn performers have breasts so lovely and natural looking that I don’t believe them when they tell me they’re enhanced. So I know it’s possible to get an enhancement without looking as if someone grafted particularly firm squashes onto one’s torso. Why, then, the sub-par boobies? Why settle for less?

Ah well, life is full of mysteries, and I guess badly-done breasts are just one of the many. But does anyone out there agree with me that real breasts, even if floppy or saggy or small, are sometimes nicer? Anyone?

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