Strip clubs. A thing I have never frequented, nor do I expect to do so in the near future. (Unless anyone can give me a hint to one in Budapest as I will be going there in less than a month)
The closest I have been was on the ferry from Oslo to Kiel when I was in the eighth grade. As it turned out, it was Tropical Weeks aboard the ferry with some truly delicious brazilian dancers that wore costumes too small, regularly exposing naked boobs. For a virgin eighth-grader that was great fun indeed. But what really has that memory stamped into my brain was on the return trip. I didn't expect anything from this, apart from watching beautiful semi-nude brazilian dancers on stage. Then, to my surprise, on the return trip I was taken up on stage. I was a little bit disappointed as I was brought up on stage with the male dancers of the group trying to teach me how to dance like they did. I think I did pretty OK since I had never actually danced like that. When the song was finished, I thought so was I. Back to the audience to watch the ladies. Oh no, not so. The men took me backstage to where one of the female dancers waited. I was dumbfounded and didn't know what to do when one of the men took my hands and placed squarely on the ass of the female dancers, then the music started. Clearly it was supposed to be the start of a conga-line, but with me hobbling away behind this beautiful woman I had never contemplated talking to, much less touch, and the Norwegian general lack of rhythm, it never carried on. That doesn't worry me too much though. Out of probably 80 men in that theater, *I* was picked. An eighth-grader expecting only to talk some German (as it was part of a language-trip to Kiel) and drool over the Love Of My Life at the moment, a girl in class. I was, and still am extatic about this.