As soon as inside, she let me try on her mammoth lucite heels, and i determined that given the correct music (clearly Ginuwine’s Pony though R Kelly’s Bump N’ Grind can also be acceptable), I can be a damn good stripper. I trembled in my stripper shoes. She noticed the stripper. I headed to the bathroom earlier than our antics began with our affable stripper. Then the woman bringing over the champagne tripped, and the fancy bucket went everywhere, and I assumed – because the stripper began to bounce her boobs off either aspect of my face – most likely not. Our bonding second was broken a second later when one of the ladies from the cigar smoker’s entourage came into the bathroom in tears.