HelenKay Dimon and Strippers

And now for a meandering blog about nothing in particular…

For reasons I can’t really explain, I was reading through the February ‘08 issue of Esquire this weekend. Yes, there are many things wrong with that sentence. Suffice to say I read boy magazines now and then for a few reasons: (1) to fight off boredom; (2) to see what little gems of wisdom are in there; (3) to keep in touch with my “male” side so I can write interesting heroes; and (4) to chuckle. This month’s sex column met three of those needs. Here’s the question:

How can I tell if a stripper is really interested in me?

I would identify this as a fine example of #4. I laughed, and laughed…and laughed at the underlying point here, which is: I am so hot that the stripper wants me more than she wants my money. Only a guy could jump to that conclusion. So, after working through my fit of laughter, I read the response. Now, the column is written by a woman named Stacey Grenrock Woods. She responded with a funny (and lengthy) answer about commerce and the frailty of the male ego. This explains why I don’t write magazine columns because I would have said, “you’re an idiot” and moved on to the question from the guy who is upset about his girlfriend’s inverted nipples [another example of #4]. Instead, Woods said:

So if you notice her grinding away on you more tenderly than she grinds the others, simply say to her, “Hey, I don’t come here to Captain Cream’s every afternoon you’re working and pay $16 for 7Up just to get my kicks, you know? I’m an honest guy, and I’m not looking for some kind of tawdry, degrading experience that I can get from my girlfriend or my wife. So I’m asking you right now: Skylar or Karen or whatever your name is, will you make me the happiest man in the world and take me bowling?” and see what she says.

Fabulous advice. Much better than my “you’re an idiot” idea. The whole question/answer thing also gives great insight into #3 while proving that my #3 probably should say: to keep in touch with my “male” side so I know how not to write a hero. Sure there are enough heroes out there who look alike (tall and dark), sound alike (like women unless they’re impressing us with their profanity) and think alike (hate commitment until…look at that buxom thing standing over there). But imagine a romance novel with a hero more like the men who write the inverted nipple/stripper questions. A juvenile half-wit who pays money to see women naked while trying to figure out why the tips of their girlfriend’s breasts are concave. Now that’s sexy.

Since life is about balance, I’ve decided to make my heroes realistic without all the belching, scratching, underwear left on the floor, thinking strippers love them stuff. It’s a risk, I know. Readers want true and interesting characters. I’m just betting they don’t want to hear a hero whine about the freaky look of the heroine’s nipples. Kills the moment.

Or am I wrong…

_______________________

The lovely Helenkay Dimon is the author of Viva Las Bad Boys and Your Mouth Drive Me Crazy. Her new novel Right Here, Right Now will be coming out late February and Hard as Nails will be out in June. She lives about twenty minutes from me and yet we have never met. During the San Diego fires, she gave me her phone number and told me to call her if my family and I needed somewhere to go. She rocks my socks. WHEN ARE WE GONNA HAVE COLDSTONE, HELENKAY?!?!?

10 Responses to “HelenKay Dimon and Strippers”

  1. romblogreader
    1

    What always cracks me up about such stripper questions is that guys seem to forget that - above and beyond being flexible, hot, wiggly and willing to take their clothes off - a stripper’s #1 job is to convincingly feign being “into you”. That’s the *deal*. You pay her, and during the time you pay for, she pretends to be attracted to you and interested in what you have to say. And for a limited time, you get the fantasy that a super hot, half-naked chick is into you. It’s a (well) compensated acting job and any guy who forgets that… *eyeroll*

  2. Jackie
    2

    This is so fucking brilliant that I’m going to have to use it in the next HELL book.

    COMPLETELY SMITTEN GUY: I know you love me. You’ve been giving me the signals.
    JESSE: What signals?
    CSG: You’ve been grinding on me more tenderly than the other guys at the club.
    JESSE: Um.
    CSG: I love you. You’re the kind of girl I’d want to take bowling.
    JESSE: Um.
    CSG: DAMN IT, you should want me! I read all about this in ESQUIRE!

  3. Sasha
    3

    LOL Too funny. I defintiely think Jackie should put it in a book. *grin*

    I find it highly amusing to see the way men think at times. Like you, I read men’s magazines sometimes,and even better, when I go to work at the pub I often ask my male co-workers/customers if they really think about these things (Hey, i have no hubby to ask..and this way I get to watch the guys get into an actual discussion that normally a woman would never be privvy to)

  4. Lucie Simone
    4

    Men really do come up with some idiotic stuff sometimes. However, I know several men who would never even step foot in a stripper bar. It’s just too sleazy for them (even when I know perfectly well that their fantasies are ripe with strippers throwing themselves at them). It takes all kinds to make this big, beautiful world spin around…

  5. Fedora
    5

    Hilarious, HelenKay! It does boggle my mind what the male mind sometimes comes up with. Yeesh! What you do in the name of research, eh? (Sorry, not feeling terribly coherent at the moment!)

  6. Ms try anything once
    6

    Umm.. I actually stripped in a club up in Alaska once for two weeks cause I had this whole fantasy… yeah, I know, some fantasies are better left in the head. But my point in saying this is you wouldn’t believe how many men payed me to just sit with them and talk. They didn’t try and touch me or push me to go out with them. They weren’t skuzzy sleaze bags, they were just really nice guys who wanted some real company. It was fine with me since I clearly wasn’t cut out to strip and was totally pathetic at procuring table dances.

    Most of the girls up there had boyfriends and were total scammers. So any guy who thinks that a stripper who looks at them nicely is into them, is, well, an idiot as you say.

  7. Lorelie
    7

    Only a guy could jump to that conclusion

    Well I dunno. A friend and I went to a male revue a couple weeks ago. You should have seen the looks the skinny cowboy dude sent in my direction. And the way he wiggled his ass on my lap? He was hot for me.

    Or he was desperate ’cause he wasn’t making any money.

    Coulda been either one.

  8. Shiloh Walker
    8

    Well dang…that headline will catch attention.

    I thought Miz HelenKay might be sharing some interesting research material with us. *G*

    How can I tell if a stripper is really interested in me?

    Yeah, I think I would have gone with the you’re an idiot approach. But I’ve been told I lack subtly.

    :)

  9. HelenKay Dimon
    9

    Romblogreader & Lucie - I totally agree.

    Yeah, Shiloh, I worried about that title too.

    Fedora - This is the fun part of research. The “ask questions” part of guy magazine is a revelation. I bet Sasha agrees.

    Ms. Try Anything and Lorelie - I’m thinking I need to hag out with you two!

    Jackie - I would like an ARC of that book…and to be in the room when you propose it to the folks at Kensington.

    Bam - Thanks for letting me hang out here and chat.

  10. K. Z. Snow
    10

    Oh, lord, that “freaky look of the heroine’s nipples” statement had me hooting again over something I once overheard in–yes–the produce department of a local supermarket. A rural supermarket, no less.

    Two twenty-something buddies were strolling along doing some haphazard shopping. Just as I came within earshot I heard one of them say to the other, “Seriously, man, you don’t wanna look too close at a nipple. Uh-uh. It’ll freak you right out.”

    Shit…the images that came into my mind! I thought I’d pee my pants, I swear. Made me wonder what kind of editorial comment he would make on female genitalia.

    Damned good thing I’m secure in my self-loathing. :-)



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