You would think I might be a little self-conscious being poor in a strip club, but it's just like being poor anywhere, except that you feel pressured to give naked women your money. It didn't bother me too much though. It wasn't that I didn't have any cash to give either--I had my tax money, after all. Having lots of money like that usually goes straight to my head--I will buy 100% fruit spread instead of preserves, for example. That's for my pancakes, which I enjoy every morning. The thing is, when you enjoy something everyday, like whole-wheat pancakes, it's a lot easier to deny yourself something you never have, like a lap dance. I'm not even much of a bargain shopper, either. Even if there was a great deal on lap dances--like three for the price of one--I would probably still be thinking about eating pancakes the following morning. This is because I am frequently hungry at night.
I don't know what to say about the men in the club. I cannot know any man well enough who does not long for pancakes after a certain hour, or who by virtue of his station in life is afforded the means to have women disrobe in his presence. This always seemed to me the purpose of foreign exchange programs, or becoming a congressman. I just don't understand these men and their disposable income.
It's hard not to judge people in these contexts. That's when I started thinking about Jesus. Jesus was a great friend to sex workers in his day, even though I presume nary a lap dance could be rendered in his presence. Jesus is hard to understand. He had such a sympathy for people who seemed to do all the wrong things, who had the worst judgment, who had the least redeeming qualities. These are people who I avoid because they are too petty, too uninspired, because they make poor choices for themselves and have little to offer anyone as a result. Jesus was constantly doing the opposite of what you would think. You could walk into a strip club and say to yourself, 'Thank goodness I have nothing to do with this,' and then Jesus would get angry with you while he talked with everyone else. No wonder the disciples were such a mess. The best you could do around Jesus was hope to screw up somehow in order to keep his sympathy.