My dear friend and co-worker Grant Stoddard writes a column for Nerve
called "I Did it for Science." The premise is simple: Ross Martin
and I think up fucked-up sexual activities that we know Grant has yet
to participate in, and we send him out to experience them first hand and
report the findings of his maiden sexual voyages. Grant thus far, in the
Name of Science, has bought and tried out a cock
ring, hooked up with
a dude, had sex with his girlfriend on
the subway, and flew out to LA to star as an extra in a Vivid Video
porno movie (article coming soon).
So when
I found out that CakeNYC was looking
for men who had never stripped to dance and give lapdances at their
upcoming Cake party, I immediately sent an email to the Cake girls requesting
that Grant and I be allowed to dance in the Name of Science. I knew
the competition to earn a slot dancing for the night would be fierce,
so I quickly busted out my Photoshop skillz and whipped up a tasty
flyer advertising our masculinity that I knew would scintillize
those Cake minxes...and SHA-POW! It worked. Grant and I got the green
light: we were going to become male strippers.
Before heading over to Joe's Pub to be briefed on our stripping mission,
Grant and I downed several drinks and consulted sex-advice experts Em
and Lo about the kind of moves we would need to be busting to truly
insight female frenzy. (By the way, Grant's wearing that fake moustache
because he felt like he'd be inhibited if he didn't have "something
to hide behind.")
After carefully absorbing the knowledge they bestowed upon us, we struck
our first of many "Sexy Poses" of the night.
Here's a bunch of the guys in the dressing room at Joe's Pub "warming
up." After several stiff drinks a piece...
...our inner pimps were released. Here we see "Blonde Business
Guy" and "70's Karate Man" in full effect and ready to
dampen some female seats.
With headband
on, Grant gives his "rig" one final adjustment and he's ready
to rock. Actually, at this time we were considering engaging in an age
old male-stripper practice known as "tying-off." This is where
one rubs his member until he's got some "bloodflow downstairs"
(also commonly known as a "chubby"). Once chub status has
been achieved, one takes a silk scarf or a piece of rope and ties it
around the base of the penis, restricting blood flow and keeping the
penis engorged. Basically, doing this makes you look like you have a
huge weiner and makes the girls give you more money because they're
all too busy fantasizing about your enormous wang to think clearly.
But just as we were preparing to "tie off," one of our fellow
not-so-novice dancers, told us to be careful. When we asked why, he
told us "Dude, if you tie off for more than 20 minutes you run
the risk of....(dramatic pause) a rupture." Needless to
say, we decided that it would be better for girls to think we had small
penises than tie-off and risk having no penises.
Grant, author
Jack
Murnighan, and some Medieval-type guy who almost jizzed his pants
when he learned that Jack had a PhD in Medievel literature. He kept
trying to talk to Jack about various Medieval festivals he'd attended.
It was great. What you can't see in this picture is that the Medieval
guy is wearing a Crash Test Dummies concert-tee. Boo-Yah!
From left:"The
Guy Who Told Us Not To Tie-Off Or We Might Lose Our Weiners", Jack,
Kung-Fu Grant, and some young NYU kid. Jack looks like a real stud,
doesn't he? Looking at this photo you'd never guess that he scurried
out of the place like a little bitch ten minutes after the event got
going.
Look to the right and you'll see Grant and myself waiting our turn to
put on our big strip show (Can you
see how nervous we are?). Our Nerve co-workers Em
& Lo were right in the front row and were supposed to immortilize
our maiden strip performance on film for my photo album, but according
to Lo, "We got so excited when you two came out that we were so
busy yelling and screaming with our arms up in the air that we forgot
to take photos."
Because Em & Lo were too preoccupied to take photos of us dancing,
I lifted these next few photos off of Cake's
website (they were all taken by Jenny Schulder). Grant ran out on
stage, screamed "My name is Daniel-san!" in the mic, did a
jump kick, opened up his karate jacket and then proceeded to rip
off the tee-shirt he was wearing underneath! So tough!
Look, my clothes aren't even off yet and all the ladies've got their
money ready! Aw yeah, boyee. (Too bad they all put their money away
once I started getting naked...).
At one point in the night, Grant and I gave dirty lapdances to Em &
Lo up on stage in front of everyone.
 
Grant shakes
the "good stuff" for a cute girl from NJ. This girl was really
funny...at first. She was the first person to buy lapdances from us.
Throughout the night, she bought us several rounds of drinks. Growing
more beligerent with each drink she downed, she eventually called us
"manwhores" and stormed away because we apparently
weren't giving her the attention that she deserved. (And in all fairness
to her, considering she bought three rounds of drinks for both Grant
and I at $10 a drink, she probably had a right to be unhappy...we're
definitely not worth $60!)
So we're
back in the dressing room after the night is over and we're changing
and getting ready to leave and all of a sudden Grant disapears into
the bathroom (leaving me to fend for myself with the girl who followed
us back into the dressing room wondering if she could "get a
ride home" from us). Anyway, Grant's taking forever in the
bathroom, so finally I knock and he's like "I can't come out."
When pressed, he explained that he had a giant boner that wouldn't go
away and he wasn't coming out until it either went away or until I fetched
his pants so that he wouldn't have to walk around the club and risk
poking some poor girl's eye out.
Grant tallies
up the Benjamins (okay, the Wahingtons and Lincolns) in my car after
we had dropped off the girl looking to get some Hot Male Stripper
Double-Dong Action™. We both still have her business card that
she so smoothly stuffed down our underwear when we were dancing for
her. I'll save her the humilation of posting it...
We returned to the safety of the Nerve offices the next day only to
receive a standing ovation upon our entrance. We had returned from the
land of crazed girls with our egos intact and a fistful of cash taboot.
Thanks Cake!
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