Having forty thousand dollars confiscated by Homeland Security at the airport really threw off my life plans. I suddenly needed a job again. I hit up my old friend, Zach “The Nature Boy” Richardson, and he hooked me up with a bartending gig at Bar Louie. After only two training shifts, I broke my hand playing flag football and couldn’t work for two months. Naturally, I went back to selling weed. My 60-month federal sentence tells me that wasn’t my best option, but it seemed like it at the time. I kept the job at Bar Louie, but I no longer had any interest in those long closing shifts where people actually made decent money. Cleaning bathrooms, wiping down bottles, and mopping floors just didn’t appeal to me anymore. Somehow, on this random Saturday night, I got stuck closing. I was less than thrilled, mainly because it meant I couldn’t go out and party. All the bars closed at 2 a.m. in Greenville on a Saturday night. Or so I thought. 

After my shift, I hurried next door to Carolina Ale House before last call. Alexa, Courtney, and Duane were all waiting for me. Alexa was a female version of me with a great ass. I think everyone at Bar Louie knew it was only a matter of time before we slept together. Courtney was the girl I’d been bartending with that night, she was always a good time, and Duane was this hilarious black dude with incredibly white characteristics. I downed a few shots and lamented my disdain for closing and not being able to really go out. Alexa brought up a late-night black strip club I knew nothing about. I’d like to say it was hard to convince me, but she had me at “You can smoke blunts inside.”

I rushed back to my place to grab some weed and blunt wraps. Truth be told, I also ripped a few dabs by myself before I met the other three at the club. They were patiently waiting for me to show up because there was no way I was going in all alone. The line was probably 50 people long, and I was the only white male. Courtney was one of maybe three white girls. I had two blunts already rolled, and I was getting the vibes that this was the night Alexa and I were going to give it a go.

We made it inside the first set of doors to the window. Duane was in front and got charged $10. Courtney and Alexa went next and got in free for being women. Of course, when I got to the register, the price suddenly jumped to $20. Fuck it, at that point in life I hardly cared about 20 bucks. I handed the guy the money with a smile that told him I knew what it was, and I was cool with it.

As I turned from the window, the doors my friends had already walked through flew open and a stampede of people started rushing out. I pressed up against the wall and tried to search for the people I knew. Duane and Alexa are both short, and I couldn’t see Courtney, either, but what I did see was a hand go up above the crowd and fire a weapon back inside the club. The gun then flew out of the guy’s hand from the recoil and landed directly at my feet. I was now the only white guy at a black strip club where shots had just been fired with a gun spinning around at my feet. I just wanted to smoke blunts inside, bro. I swear. As my whole life flashed before my eyes, the guy who fired the shots swam back through the rush of running bodies and picked up his spinning weapon before taking off outside. I finally let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. 

My friends suddenly appeared and I ushered them back outside. As I was telling them what had just happened, someone came outside and said that a server just dropped some plates, there was nothing to fear. Everyone could come back inside. 

I feel like this story would probably have gotten much better if I had listened to Alexa’s advice. She pointed out that I spent $20 and hadn’t even gotten to go all the way inside. 

Instead, I told them that my white ass was never going in that club, so we went back to Duane’s apartment to finish the night. He had the most well-stocked bar I’ve ever seen along with an outrageously nice bong despite the fact that he didn’t really drink or smoke weed. I ended up eating Alexa’s incredible ass for the first time on Duane’s couch that night, beginning an extremely casual but mutually enjoyable fuckship between the two of us. 

I told my cellmates that story two days ago, and I have now vowed to give late-night black strip clubs another chance. Any recommendations?