You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.
A man arrested at a strip club for trying to see naked women?
Huh? Isn’t this what strip clubs are for?
According to Seattle Police; a 27 year old idiot was arrested for climbing into a ceiling area above the dancer’s dressing room.
What is this moron hoping to see, women more Naked than the nude dancers who are stripping down to their birthday suits? How do you get more naked than naked?
Hey freak-show, there’s dozens of naked women on stage. Women with tassels and thongs and humping a pole. It costs you a dollar to partake. A 20 gets you a lap dance? You got a thing for pink fiberglass insulation?
Why would you leave a room full of naked women, only to climb into a dangerous ceiling space over a dressing room of dancers who might be naked, but are probably cold and covered up smoking cigarettes.
A police report quotes one of the Lusty Lady Strippers: “I was startled when (the man’s) legs came crashing through the glass panel ceiling above me.” The report continues: before the man fell through she had heard what she thought was kicking or pounding above her head.
To me this is like sneaking into the freezer at Burger King to gnaw on a frozen burger. Why go through all this illegal effort when you have a whole grill full of sizzling whoppers dripping with cheese in front of you.
The man was booked into King County Jail for investigation of malicious mischief. He should have been booked into the local mental health ward for cranial testing.
Maybe the guy couldn’t read or didn’t see the Lusty Lady’s famous marquee: “We’re open, not clothed.”
Open, Not clothed! That’s funny, and direct.
It tells me, the consumer, that if I walk into the Lusty Lady, my eyes will fill with images of exotic dancing. Not clothed means just that. Oh maybe there will be a brief encounter with a pink boa, or a little sailor suit at the start of a song, but after a while, Not clothed means not clothed.
If I’m in the Lusty Lady, I’m grabbing a stage-side table, ordering an adult beverage and asking the pleasantly attired wait staff to break a 20 and make it all ones please. I’m not ordering cavier, I’m not reading the Wall Street Journal, I am not reading the bible.
A lot of stuff is circling my frontal lobe, on this boys night out, but spelunking into a crawl space is not one of them.
Sadly, a moron whose synaptic impulses fire so badly he leaves a good thing for an unpredictable perch on stupid, Well here at the Crazy Dept. we say: keep the moron in jail, and make sure the Lusty Lady is never clothed.
And that is crazy.