Erotic City

I don’t know about Portland, but it’s currently seven hundred and sixteen degrees in Salem, where my home office is located. Since our water may or may not be safe to drink, I’m sitting on about fifty bucks worth of hobo cash (empty water bottles), thanks to boxes of clean Aquafina that I purchased during the algae scare. However translucent my piss happens to be, though, any more than two bong hits puts me to sleep, allergies are on fleek (did I do that correctly?) and there is a two-hour span between three and five in the morning, during which time it’s cold enough to sleep with half a sheet. Because of this, I’ve allowed somewhat of a flu dream to take over this month’s column. I thought long and hard about what the fine people of Portland and surrounding areas want out of their Exotic. I also thought of the children, their future and our future as as a whole. In the end, I realized that it is my duty, as a responsible editor of an adult publication, to convince your daughter to say "fuck college, get naked."

How You Should Spend Your Summer Vacation: As A Stripper

Have you ever thought about stripping? Well, not to sound like an ad for a used car sale during a holiday weekend, but summer is the absolute perfect time to consider a career as a dancer. In addition to the obvious surge in income, local celebrity status and health benefits, there are several reasons why any female living in Portland should at least try stripping out during amateur night.

First of all, summer months are off-season for schools (including most colleges, save for those year-round students who are too freaky to strip—and for all the wrong reasons). Summer is also a time during which people—especially those who are stuck in Portland all winter— take off for vacations, day trips or just decide not to leave the house, because anything over 90 degrees in Portland qualifies as a weather emergency in which residents cling to their A/C like the hopes and dreams they had before moving to Portland. This means, if you’re worried about running into a classmate, teacher, stepfather or the like (and, you shouldn’t be—if they’re in the strip club as a customer, they have just as much explaining to do as you, the contracted employee), the chances of seeing someone you know are at their absolute bottom during summer months.

Speaking of absolute bottom, there are several clubs (none of whom advertise in Exotic, don’t worry), that will allow literally anyone to strip. These are great places to take your first shot at dancing. While semi-dangerous in terms of staph infection risk, gang activity and other on-the-job hazards, these "dive bar" type clubs (and, I don’t mean in the ironic sense of the word—it’s not a true "dive" if there’s a door guy) will allow you to work out all the kinks of being a new stripper, without having to do so in front of a crowd, off-duty Exotic staff or the teacher-slash-uncle you were trying to avoid in the last paragraph. Hell, even as a DJ, I started at the lowest rung possible—the club I worked at is now closed, but at the time, good DJs were allowed to move "up" to the establishment’s sister club, Pirate’s Cove. Now, I love the Cove as much as the next person, but let’s not go pretending it’s gonna be featured on Gentlemen’s Clubs Of The Rich And Famous any time soon. So, at one point, even DJ HazMatt considered a one-and-a-half stage club an upper tier on the career ladder (again, it was, and I’m mad grateful to have been there before gracing the mics at bigger establishments). As a baby stripper (this term sees no age, by the way, so, yes, you’re a baby stripper if you just started dancing at 30), the last thing you want to do is start in the big leagues and work your way down to your appropriate skill level. A "neighborhood dive bar" type of strip club will help you work out the newbie kinks. Plus, the regulars at small clubs are often a lot cooler than the folks who frequent the busy spots (partially, because small club regulars often get stuck doing the job of security and, often times, DJ).

Okay, so we’ve established that it’s a great time to start stripping and that you probably want to do so at a semi-divey spot that’s not located in the heart of Portland, but what about dancing? What if you’ve got no rhythm, no ass and no taste in decent club music? Well, fear not, because lots of the other girls dancing in Portland are white, just like you—the indie-music-loving, assless Becky. And, much like I use the word "white" instead eexxoottiicc mmaaggaazziinnee || xxmmaagg..ccoomm 2277 of "Caucasian" (or, better yet, "black" instead of "African-American"), the term "dancer" is often a souped-up euphemism, used as a substitute for the supposedly ugly (but, actually just functional) word "stripper." Well, that’s what you do—you strip. Dancing is secondary. Yeah, you may be "African-American," but your grandparents were born in Oregon City, so "black" is the word for your folks. Same logic applies to the term "pole dancer." Hell, some clubs don’t even have poles or dancers. There’s a reason we have competitions like Polerotica—actual, impressive pole dancing skill is rare enough that it’s rewarded with cash, cover shoots and fame. But, do you just wanna be a stripper with a customer base by, oh, next weekend? Learn to talk to lonely men. Learn to share attention with other drunk girls (mainly, the ones who are customers). Learn to lie harmlessly ("Yes, I like your drawings, weird art guy who tips to smell my feet..."). If you can master these three skills, you can strip. And, if you’re an attractive woman who has been drinking in bars for over a year and is still single (in the "not married" sense of the word), you’ve probably already mastered these skills.

So, after a few successful months (not days) of stripping at Shady Dave’s Pole Barn And Lotto, step your game up and audition at a club that advertises in our magazine. Some clubs, such as Bottoms Up, allow walk-in auditions (I think...call 503-621-9844 for exact details), while others work with booking agencies, such as Rose City Booking, in which specific clubs book by corresponding text message numbers (text 503-347-3267 to audition for Rose City Strip or Dv8, or 971- 258-6071 to check out Desire). Keep in mind, that all of the clubs listed in this paragraph (except for Shady Dave’s) are probably anticipating that you have at least some experience as a dancer—the kind that strips—but, it never hurts to allow good looks and confidence to substitute for an up-to-date LinkedIn profile.

Lots of people will tell you that stripping is degrading. Most of these people are broke, covered in soccer mom stretchmarks and up to their neck in credit card debt. You tell me, which is more degrading? Showing off parts of your body, while being protected by security, bikers, other dangerous regulars and a pair of heels that wouldn’t make it past the TSA, or reminding person after person that their order can be up-sized for an additional thirty-nine cents, before trying to sign them up for a club card membership? Oh, and that second job pays a taxable fifth what stripping does. The stigma is bullshit. Further, I’ve dated a few strippers and most of them are pretty slow to heat up, in terms of sex stuff and feelings. On the contrary, the chicks who work coffee carts will usually be down to raw dog before the intro theme to The Office stops playing during Netflix-and-oh- I-guess-we-just-skip-the-chill. If you want your parents and friends to think you’re a thot, become a stripper. If you want your friends and family to know you’re a thot, just apply at Dutch Bros.

All I’m saying, is that the outfit you’re wearing to Coachella should help you earn a few hundred dollars—not cost you a few hundred dollars—especially when you’re the center of male attention due to your "necklace," your "chest personality" or your "cool, V-neck Mis- fits shirt with nipple holes." The difference between a gold-digging skank and a professional stripper is that a professional stripper knows who she is—she’s a salesperson—and the art of sales isn’t always a respected one, but it pays. If you’re a decent person on the inside, there is nothing wrong with showing off your outsides. And, Portland is the best place to get away with being a "stripper on the side," while holding down your other job at the sick kid’s hospital or mayoral campaign. Chances are, the fictitious barista (band name dibs) I bashed as an example of a real-life-thot also dances on the side, so now I’m another 1,000 words away from an apology. I stand by my words, though—stripping is rungs lower on the degrading-job triangle than volunteering for free at a feminist bookstore or working for pay at a Communist coffee shop. It’s Portland—stripping is as normal as smoking weed after you turn

Goodbye Mystic, Hello The Venue, Club Play Pen On Standby

The building formerly known as Mystic is now The Venue. I bring this up, because readers may be wondering how a brand new club can have a "Fifteenth Annual Bikini Bike Wash," so that’s how. Without completely shilling my favorite spots, it’s hard to complete this column, so I’ll just go ahead and say it—The Venue is the best spot for those of us who are busy, a bit anxious around naked women and afraid of being too far from home. Last point first, The Venue is located exactly in the middle of the Southeast Portland grid. It’s just as easy to hit 181st for some Gresham fun (I have no idea what that would be, so just humor me here), as it is to hit the waterfront, in terms of distance from The Venue. Anxious around strippers? Go cool off next door at Falco’s regular-ass, no-pole-having bar—every strip club should have one of these attached to it. Sometimes, you just need to chill out with a beer, some food and a MegaTouch machine, between hour-long lap dance binges and Exotic events. Plus, for the busy professional, who is too tired to come up with a series of excuses for the wife and kids, regarding where said professional spent his after-work downtime, The Venue is called just that—"The Venue." How’s that for an ambiguous credit card billing statement? Go ahead and "work late" this week. Happy hour ‘til seven, lunch specials during lunchtime.

Down the way, up the freeway and around the bend, Club Play Pen is still currently closed, thanks to fire damage and all the fun stuff that comes with reopening after an unanticipated disaster. But, the owners would like to let everyone know that they will be re-opening— it’s just taking a tad longer than expected. So, make sure to keep your eyes peeled, while you’re cruising up and down NE Columbia Blvd. Once you see that "now open" sign, make a mad dash to the front door and be the first person to get a private dance after the grand reopening— just make sure you’re in Club Play Pen and not some other NE Columbia Blvd. business that does not support the nude arts.

Club SinRock’s Vault Lounge Is Fucking Awesome

I’ve been to SinRock a few times, have had a crush on last month’s ad girl for years and cannot argue with any establishment that advertises good strip club food (seriously, the Acropolis knows what they’re doing). With that said, I’m not gonna lie—I had yet to check out Sin- Rock’s private, V.I.P. room, Vault Lounge. SinRock management and DJ Dick Hennessy were showing me around the club, which is a damn nice establishment, but I was legit stunned with what SinRock has to offer behind the closed double doors near the smoking patio. The Vault Lounge is an entirely separate club-within- a-club, that can be rented out by private parties. HDTV, leather couches and a private stage are one thing, but the private smoking patio is what sold me. I don’t know how many times I’ve been enjoying the privacy of some friends, ten barely legal strippers and a bucket of PBR, only to have to step out into the parking lot or a busy-ass patio, just to enjoy a smoke. It sorta kills the Vegas-in- Portland fantasy. So, while I expect our readers to see "private couches, stage and television" as a good enough reason to rent out The Vault for a night, I’m just happy that they built a private smoking patio. Small victories deserve attention, even in close proximity to obvious greatness (and restrooms, the private dance area and a semi-private bar).

Congratulations To...?

Both the Ink ‘N’ Pink and Vagina Beauty Pageant contests wrapped up last month, but not before this issue went to press. So, to see who took the Ink ‘N’ Pink crown, visit Xmag.com (click on the banner for the new site, if you enjoy raw text and safe-for-work, social-media-friendly images with pixelated titties) or Facebook. com/XoticMag. To see who won the "Vag Pag," peep VaginaBeautyPageant.com or follow Dick Hennessy on social media. Unlike other elections, we have no prior knowledge as to who the winner is, but once again, Bernie Sanders came up a little short this year, so don’t expect him to take first in either contest.

It’s Bikini Car And Dog Wash Season!

On Sunday, August 12th at 1pm, bring your dog to Devils Point for the 12th Annual Bikini Car And Dog Wash. It’s exactly what it sounds like—if you’re one of the thousands of Portlanders who has a dog, or one of the dozens who has a car, Devils Point dancers will be ready, in bikinis, with soap on deck. Plus, the event proceeds will go to benefit Family Dogs New Life, a no-kill shelter (this means that dogs on the receiving end of your charity will be given good homes, instead of being put down or forced to live in a box). Does this event really need my co-sign to draw folks? It’s a damn good idea, for a damn good cause. Besides, if I need to add anything here to convince you that a clean car, happy dog and bikini-clad Devils Point dancers are a good way to invest in a Sunday afternoon, you’re not human.