7 Days In Savannah: Lady Lou's

7 Days in Savannah is a recollection of my time growing up and being a young man in Savannah, GA. All stories are true and relayed to the best of my memory.


I have a confession to make. I used to be a bad boyfriend. Well, not bad bad, but I did some stuff that could be considered not cool. Chalk it up to youth, but when I was in college, I used to frequent a booty club and my girlfriend didn't know. Knowing her, I know she would not have approved, so I just didn't tell her. Let's go ahead and make that confession sound even worse. I used to go after I left her house. I never rushed out of there so I could go see strippers, but instead of just going straight home, I would stop off at Lady Lou's for a dance or three. I could make all kinds of excuses, but the fact is this: I liked looking at naked women, so I did.

Let's talk about Lady Lou's. It was a dump. A hole in the wall spot on Montgomery Street, right across from the Salvation Army store. As far as I know, it's now a sports bar, but back in 95-97, it was the place to go to see strippers. They never advertised themselves at a strip club. In fact, I don't even know how I found out about it, but once I went, I was hooked. The best thing about the club, was the girls didn't look like your stereotypical strippers. They were just hot girls that you'd see in the hood. And there was no pole dancing, VIP rooms or routines, just booty shaking and lap dancing. If you were lucky, you got a seat in the corner where it was really dark, but if not, it didn't really matter. The girls were still gonna get freaky directly under the spotlight. Oh, and one other thing... it was highly illegal. Lady Lou's had neither an adult club license or a liquor license.

On this night, I was hanging out with Lisa at her sister's house like we did just about every Friday night. I wanna say that we had went to a movie and then came home so she could babysit her niece while her sister went out to the club. That's how it usually happened. I had talked to Kareem and Tori and they mentioned that they were gonna hit up Lady Lou's that night. So when the Lisa portion of the night was over, I decided to meet them up there. It was no more than 5 minutes away from Lisa's sister's crib. I pulled up, paid my two dollars (yes, $2) and looked around the club. I didn't see my friends there, but I sat down anyway. I ordered a Michelob ($2) and preceded to find a girl to give my $3 (yes, $3 for a lap dance) to. As I looked around, I saw another one of my homeboys, Mike, in the corner getting a dance. I tipped my beer to him and he raised his plastic cup at me. I continued my search for the perfect stripper as Aaliyah's One In A Million came on. I loved the beat on that song, so I got the closest attractive stripper to me, and ponied up my cash. As her body gyrated to the Timberland beat, and she got a lot closer than strippers do now a days, I felt a tap on my shoulder...

"Rashan?"

I looked up and saw a tall woman with long black bushy hair. I recognized that face anywhere. It was Kasey. Kasey was a good friend of mine back in high school. She was even a better friend to Kareem and another one of my homeboys, Chavon. She dated both of them. I hadn't seen her probably since graduation, but I heard rumors that she had turned gay. It surprised the heck out of me seeing her in the strip club.

"Kasey? What you doing here?"

"Working. What are you doing?"

Then I noticed what she was wearing. A red bikini set. Well she was wearing for about 30 seconds. Then it was on the floor. Oh snap! Kasey is a stripper. I wasn't prepared for that one. She wasn't exactly the type that you would think of when you think of strippers. Now that I'm older, it does make more sense given her childhood, but all I was thinking was I went to high school with this girl. We were good friends for awhile there. She dated two of my homeboys. I don't wanna see her naked.

I tried to concentrate on the dancer in front of me, but Kasey kept making small talk. Asking me about this person or that person, all the while dancing naked for some other dude. It felt weird. Obviously, most of the strippers went to high school, but none of them went with me. It was the first time that I had experience with someone I knew. All I wanted to do was just enjoy my dance, but my mind was racing. When Aaliyah went off, I paid my dancer and Kasey came and sat down next to me. Great! Now, instead of just seeing her naked, she was sitting next to me naked. And talking to me naked. It was just so weird. This may not make sense to you, but I had very few platonic friends that stayed completely platonic, but she was one of them. I didn't want to see her like that. Plus, it felt like a violation of friendship since Kareem dated her. I tried my best to expedite her leaving.

"Hey, don't you have to go make that money?"

"Nah, I'm good. I can talk for awhile."

"I don't want you to get in no trouble. Just call me and we'll catch up."

"You still got the same number?"

"Yeah, it's the same. Go get your money!"

"You want me to dance for you?"

"NOOOOOO!!!"

Okay, that's what I thought. I was really said this..

"That's a little weird, isn't it. I've known you since middle school."

She moved on and as soon as it was possible to leave without looking too conspicuous, I trotted to the door. As I exited the club, I wondered if I should tell Kareem that I saw his high school girlfriend butt booty naked shaking for dollars. I decided against it for the time being. I squeezed past the police officer that was working security and got in my car. As I was pulling off, I was nearly hit by a police paddy wagon. Then I saw 3 more cop cars coming in the same direction. I figured that the weekly Friday night shooting was in the area. It wasn't until I talked to Mike the following Monday that I found out what really happened.

The police raided Lady Lou's and took all the dancers and customers in. Luckily, only the owners got real charges, but I was so glad I left before it went down. Can you imagine me trying to explain that I was at an illegal strip club when I was supposed to have been home? That wouldn't have went over well with Lisa. They shut Lady Lou's down. It did reopen, but it didn't stay open very long before they got raided again. Luckily, I was nowhere near there that night. I'm glad Kasey was there that night to run me out of the club.

Open Letter To President-Elect Obama

Okay, I know I haven't posted in a while, but I'm back now. I'm blog inspired again. I think this is a good one, which means that everybody else will think it sucks and I'll get like 3 comments. LOL

Dear Mr. Obama,

I don’t usually do this. I’m not the type that asks for help from his government, but in light of recent events, I feel compelled to intervene on behalf of those that do not have a voice. We’ve all seen what the government has done with recent bailout of the financial sector, most notably AIG (who I used to work for.) We’ve heard the requests of the Big Three automakers for federal assistance. I know that you are probably reticent to provide additional bailouts with the criticism levied your way about being a Socialist, but this group needs help. And if the government doesn’t do it, I don’t know who will.

Let me give you a little background. I’ve been noticing that the declining economy has been affecting this industry for awhile. Parking lots that once were full languish half empty. People that once would spend their hard earned paycheck in these establishments, now only indulge on special occasions. There just has not been as much disposable income to stimulate the economy in these tough times. But Thursday really drove the point home. As much as one hears about Black Friday, there’s another big day that drives spending… at least in Atlanta. It is affectionately known as Booty Shaking Thursday!

Booty Shaking Thursday is the fourth Thursday in November. It’s a tradition that after all the football, after all the food and after all the family time, men (and lesbians) from all over the city descend on their favorite strip club to give thanks for what God has given…to the strippers (or if you would prefer me to be more politically correct, we can call them dancers.) What’s more American than leaving your family and indulging in hedonistic behavior? Well, this Thursday I saw the unthinkable: There were virtually no patrons at the club as I drove by. Quelle Horror! It’s often been posited that stripping was a recession proof occupation. People will always pay to see women in various states of undress. Well, I’m here to tell you, Mr. President-Elect. The old ways of thinking are wrong. We need fresh ideas in order to stimulate our economy. We need our government to bail out some strippers (and not in the normal way of bailing out because she got a little too “friendly” with an undercover or her cocaine fell out of her boot.)

The ramifications of BST are far reaching. Imagine if there were no strip clubs. It wouldn’t just affect the owners and employees. It would damage our economy. Sales of Coronas and Patron would plummet. Who would buy those clear heeled shoes? The local beauty shop’s business would dry up because no strippers = no lace front weaves and no hideous blonde wigs. Glitter would be used only by kindergartners with school projects. What about that guy in the bathroom that hands you a paper towel after you wash your hands? He would have to get his crack by robbing people instead of the tips of drunken patrons. What about babysitters? If these dancers don’t have to work until 4 in the morning, then they can take care of their own kids. And the big meaty looking bodyguards and bouncers? The NFL ain’t hiring them, so where will they work? They can’t fit in a cubicle! Where else can you find a pack of Blacks for $7, everywhere else they are 3 dollars! That’s $4 dollars a pack stimulating our economy. Think about the economy, Mr President-Elect.

While some people may oppose this plan, I urge you to look at it objectively. It wont cost nearly as much as bailing out GM, and unlike American cars, people actually like strippers. Can you imagine a world where there are more dancers than customers? I, for one, don’t want to live in a world like that. I know you are anti-lobbyist, but if it would help, I can send Persuasion, Peaches and Chocolate Tiger to Washington to plead our case. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Michelle.

Sincerely,

Rashan Jamal

Friday Night Lights

Friday was one of my work homegirls last day. To commemorate the night, a few of the co workers and I decided to take her out to celebrate. It was suggested by someone else that we go to a strip club. After some arm twisting, I agreed. LOL. After work, we headed to Strokers. I led the way, since I literally live within drunk staggering walking distance. I was followed by Jamie, the one that was leaving and Lakesha in their respective vehicles. We got there around 10:45, and waited another 10 minutes for 2 other co workers: Keb (I mentioned her before as the one that wore a fresh men's suit to work) and Jimmy. It was still pretty early, so the usual line around the corner was non existant. We paid our $1o and went in the club.

Our first move was to the bar. I got Jamie and Lakesha a couple of Lemon Drops and me a Henn and Coke. I was the sponsor for the evening. Don't trip, I wasn't one of those cats that gets tricked into paying for drinks. I was doing it because I wanted to. I wanted to show the ladies a good time. And no, I wont be your sponsor. LOL. Keb and Jimmy got their own drinks and next we found a table close to the stage. Now, when I roll to the strip club solo, I usually stay far away from the stage. I'm not much of a tip the stage kinda guy. I figure why pay for what I can see for free. Is that wrong? LOL My money is usually spent more on table dances, which are more personal, but I was with other people so when with Romans, right?

We laughed and watched the dancers, and before I knew it, my cup was empty, so I headed back to the bar with Lakesha. Patron for me this time. Forget all that slow motion drinking, I graduated to shots to get a buzz going quicker. 2 more Lemon Drops for the ladies. Keb and Jimmy are tossing dollars on the stage. I'm just chilling watching it all go down. I had a mini stack of ones thanks to the bartender giving me extra change from the second set of drinks. She should have given me a 10 stack, but instead gave me a 20 stack. That worked for me. Might as well recycle that money.

I gave Lakesha some ones to toss at the dancer on the stage. It was fun watching women tip women. Keb and/or Jimmy had brought a girl over for a table dance. When she was finished, we motioned for her to dance for Jamie, who was uncomfortable at first but managed to make it through unscathed. Lakesha was putting dollars where the sun don't shine in unmentionable places. The song was over and the girl left. It was time for more Patron. And more lemon drops. And more tipping etc etc etc. There was this one dancer that Keb and Jimmy were mad excited about. Let's just say her assets were so large that she looked like she was gonna fall over. They grabbed her for a dance while I was at the bar again with Lakesha. I came back to see her doing a headstand and nearly spilled my drink doing a double take. It was wild.

The rest of the night I remember, but it was really only in flashes... At some point, I tried to convince Jamie that she should dance for me. I was holding out a $20 which she tried to grab from me, but it ripped. W.hite Chocola.te from the "T.ip Dr.ill" video got the stage to herself and sucked. She didn't hardly even move. Not my type anyway, but still it was disappointing that she didn't put on a good show. Anybody watch Colleg.e Hi.ll? I don't, but apparently the stripper that slept with one of the cast was in the house. I got a dance from her and people around me were mad groupie-ish. I had no idea who she was though. I remember being an ass to the bathroom attendant. He tried to sell me a $7 pack of Bla.ck&Mild.s and kept talking too much and not moving the line along fast enough. I asked him "if I give you some money, will you shut the hell up?" He said yes, so I put a few in the tip jar. LOL. There was this one dancer who was on stage doing pole tricks. Lakesha wanted to tip her but said she was scared. Not sure why, since she had been tipping all night. Anyway, I did my civic duty and took her to the stage and showed her how to do it right. Got offered $500 by Keb to get a strippers phone number (I didn't get it. Didn't even try) Eventually they were ready to leave and were going to The Ve.lvet Roo.m.

When we were leaving, this Bama in a checkered short and shirt outfit, with gold teeth, tried to holla at Jamie and Lakesha. But first he tried to clear it with me. "Hey, playa. Which one of these is yours?" I bout cracked up. They toyed with him for a few minutes before sending him on his way sans phone number. The dude came with every corny line you can think of. It was like a bad stereotype. By this time, Jimmy had rolled out somewhere. I was so close to my crib that I could taste it so I was just gonna call it a night. I wasn't sure I was in dress code for Velvet Room anyway. Keb tried (successfully) to punk me into going with them to the next club. "Nigga, you got these beautiful ladies tryna go to the club with you and you gonna take yo ass home?" Okay, so I told them I would go. We each hopped in our respective rides and formed a 4 car caravan. I was in the back since I didn't know exactly where the club was. As I'm following them, I realize that they didn't know either. They took a wrong turn on LaVista, then took a U-turn to go the other way. I stayed with them for awhile until they ran a red light. At that point, we got separated. I called Jamie to see where they were, but she was following Lakesha, who I found out later was following Jimmy even though I thought he had already left. She told me where they had turned, but I couldn't catch up with them. Plus, I really wanted to not be driving anymore, so I told Jamie that I was going home and that I would see her another time. Turns out they never made it in Velvet Room, but parking lot pimped for a minute. I'm glad I didn't stick around for that.

So that was my Friday night. I came home and took a shower and dozed off watching "The Do.ors." I had some crazy dreams, then got up and went to work. This was my rotational Saturday to work, so I have Friday, Saturday and Sunday off this upcoming week. Friday night, at Luckie Lounge. If you are in the city come on out and say what's up! Or don't, I'ont care. LOL! This post woulda been so much better with pictures, but people was mad camera shy and by the time we got out of Strok.ers, I forgot I had my camera in the whip. Maybe next time.Talk to you later...

I Shouldn't Have Had That Last Shot

When someone asks you if you want another shot, and you know that you shouldn't, please take my advice: Trust Yourself.

I was doing just fine, remaining in that tipsy zone, on the edge of drunk, when the waitress asked if I wanted another shot. Actually, she peer pressured me into it. Said "It's your birthday, you gotta get twisted." Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I can usually withstand it, but something about the combination of bouncing booties and trying to have a great time, made me change my mind. I made that fatal mistake that many club goers make. I ordered another shot...

"Lemme get a double shot of Patron"

Why I do that? I was doing just fine, being judicious with my funds. Being selective with the table dances. But after that shot, I was just gone. Any dancer that whispered seductively in my ear got a dance, even that snaggled tooth girl who ordinarily just sits down because nobody wants her to dance for them. Don't get me wrong, I already had a strip club budget for my birthday; I didn't take in more money than I could afford to spend, but I could have kept even more. I still walked out with money in my pocket, but that easily could have been doubled if not for that last shot.

I didn't like what I was feeling. I was keeping a mental tally of my loot, but was unable to stop myself from spending it. I was even oblivious to the fights that happened right behind me. Or when the DJ stopped the music, I didn't even notice. The worst part was that I had to stay in the club longer than I intended to, just to make sure that Patron wore off. It would have really sucked to get a DUI on my birthday. Today, my actual birthday, I'm dragging. I didn't have to be at work until 4:30, but I was still late. I wouldn't call it a hangover, but I definitely was feeling some kind of way today. I didn't want to see any food, especially not birthday cake. Now, I'm better. Ready to respond to all the birthday text messages and calls that I ignored this morning and afternoon. Ready to start being 33. Don't get me wrong, I had a helluva good time, but I really shouldn't have had that last shot.

Babies, Burgers, Stalkers, Strippers, Dreams

Well, if you read the title, then you know what the post is all about. I wanted to post last Friday, so I could actually go a week straight writing in my blog, but some other stuff came up. Maybe this week, I can do it. Anyway, here is my weekend recap in true Rashan random fashion.

First of all, I'm an uncle again!!! My brother and his wife welcomed their child into the world early Friday morning. A healthy 8 lb 2 oz boy. He is too freakin cute. You know I love the kids right? He didn't open his eyes the whole time I was visiting in the hospital, but I got to hold him. Babies are amazing to me. They went home yesterday and mom and baby are doing fine. Got me thinking about my re-instituting my 90 day rule for knocking up the next woman I can put up with for 3 months. My male biological clock is ticking kinda loud right now.

I had the best burger I have ever had in my life on Saturday. Okay, maybe that's a hyperbole, but the mushroom and bleu cheese joint from Burger Joes in Decatur was ridiculous. I don't usually get excited over food, but I was just sitting there like DAMN!!! It was a good freakin' burger. Not sure why I wrote about this.

This is being my fourth time being an uncle, of course I had to go and celebrate the best way I know how: The strip club. LOL I'm kidding. I mean I did go to the strip club, but it was totally unrelated. I was bored Saturday, so I went to shoot some pool with the maybe-weds. I can't play to save my life, so I just watched and talked some shit about this and that. By 11, they were on their way home and I was not quite ready to call it a night, so I decided to hit up Pin Ups, home of the $5 dance. Here's a rhetorical question for you? Why do strippers insist on talking to me? Do I really have to hear your (often intoxicated) thoughts? Does it really matter if I'm married? Do you really have to tell me that I'm cute? I'm already paying you, save the flattery for the next man. Do I have really have to explain that the reason why I don't want you to dance for me (that horrid blond wig you are wearing)? Do I really look like an undercover cop? Okay, so that was more than one rhetorical question. I had a good time, but it really just reminded me that I'm not getting none in real life. LOL

I've become convinced that the more I'm mean to people, the more they are attracted. I don't know how to get rid of people. Even the whole honesty policy doesn't work. Whoever said that's the best policy never had to deal with a persistent suitor. When honesty didn't work, I decided to just be the biggest jerk in the world, something with which I have had practice. The one word answers, veiled insults and straight ignoring isn't working either. In fact it seems to make her want me more. In her words "you are a tough nut to crack, but I'm gonna do it." WTF? Short of pretending to be gay, I don't know how I'm gonna get rid of this one.

I've been having some really vivid and lucid dreams lately. I don't know what its about, but I actually look forward to sleeping. My R.E.M. stage has me going on some strange adventures. I can't remember them all, but in one of them I was dating Marion Jones after the steroids (except in my dream she was a disgraced swimmer instead of a disgraced track and field star.) In another one, me and Common were freedom fighters against a totalitarian government. We were being chased across the country and kept getting into adventures and free-styling along the way. In yet another, I was running from zombies who turned people into Republicans if they bit you. The zombie boss was Bill O Reilly. Shit is just weird, but I am actually looking forward to going to sleep to see what's next. I need to start writing in my dream blog again.

And that's about it. I hope everyone has a good start to your week. I'll get back with ya tomorrow. One!

Robin Thicke's Wife is Fine...

The title? Just a random thought after seeing her in Deja Vu last night. Nothing to do with the post, just an observation...

I tried... I really tried to break out of my anti social behavior this weekend. It started off tenuously, but ended okay. What had happened was...

Friday - I had made plans to hang out with some friends at Fox Sports Grill Friday night. We were going have some drinks and stuff. It would be a nice change of pace and plus we know one of the bartenders there so the plan was to get some free or discounted drinks. As always, I didn't know who else would be there but I was committed to get out of the house so I don't have to write any more depressing ass posts like the other day. I figured we would go at night, so I ran my errands all day. Then I get a text message changing the plans. The ex co workers decided to go to Dave and Buster's for Happy Hour. By the time I actually checked my phone it was too late to drive across town in rush hour traffic to meet them so I chilled out figuring it to be another one of those do nothing Friday nights.

My phone rang again around 10. A current co worker called and said they were hitting up a strip club and wanted to know if I wanted to go. I reluctantly remembered my own words and decided that I would join them. Luckily, they wanted to go to Pin Ups, which is about 7 minutes away, so I met them up there around midnight. It was a cool scene, once we actually got inside. For some reason, they decided to hold the line like the club was packed, which I saw it wasn't when I got inside. I had never hung out with this guy from work, so I didn't really know what to expect. I hoped he wouldn't act a fool in the club, but he maintained all right and even followed most of my Strip Club Commandments. Side note: I don't understand why dudes go to the strip club to play pool all night. There were these two cats who swore they were playing for the Billiard's championship. Calling shots and trying to make me watch them play. Um, there's naked chicks around, I don't care if you about to sink the 8ball. Anyway, I made it out of there without spending too much loot with the exception of the overpriced beers and without falling in love with a stripper with the exception of Karisma (yes that's how she spelled it according to her strategically placed tattoo.) Mission accomplished, I went out on a Friday night and had some fun.

I had to work Saturday night, so no haps on the going out mission, but I did get a text telling me about a cookout on Sunday. I almost didn't go, but then again, I thought about my last post and sucked it up. I knew it would be fun, I just didn't feel like driving all the way up I 575 on a day I didn't have to work. Shit, I filled up my tank with some $3.09 a gallon gas, and wasn't trying to burn through it just yet. Well, since I didn't make it to hang out with them on Friday, I figured I would go out there on Sunday. They told me to be there at 2:00 which in CP time means 2:30 which in Rashan time means 3:00. So at about 3:15, I show up at my friends house ready fully expecting them to chastise me for my tardiness. But they weren't even home. They pulled up right behind me. We hopped in K's car and after a few stops wound up at Lake Alatoona. You know me, I had to count the number of other black people around besides us and there was exactly 1. As for our cookout party, we were mad multi cultural. We had black, white, mixed, and Mexicans there. They put the food on the grill and we just chilled out, or rather burned up as it was almost 90 degrees out there. Some of the people there decided to try to fish in the lake, but nobody caught anything. I for one didn't try it, because there ain't no way in hell, I was going to touch the bait. After a few hours and a few beers, we called it a day and I headed home.

There was my weekend. I went out twice in three days. That's progress right? Maybe next weekend, I'll do it again. Perhaps, I can go somewhere where I can actually meet some eligible women. I mean, there were mad women at the strip club (besides the dancers), but that's not exactly where I want to pick up chicks. Might wake up one day and she tells me she's really into women. And as far as the cookout, it's just like every other time I hang out with these people: there's never any unattached girls there. We'll just have to see how it goes next time. Memorial Day, GZA from WuTang is coming and then there's the Jazz Festival in Piedmont Park, and all kinds of stuff going on. Here's hoping I still have the motivation to go out. Well, it's now 6:45 in the morning. Time to grab a couple hours of sleep before work. Be easy!