Tab Tries: The Dreamboys strip show
Ever wanted to know what actually happens at male strip shows?
The Dreamboys: those hunks who are famous for getting naked were making a special appearance at our very own Players bar.
A little over a year ago, I’d never even seen a man in the nude.
Now, I’d just willingly handed over thirty quid of my student loan to watch a whole load of them gyrate around a dark room to music… all for my viewing pleasure. I was nervous as hell.
The days leading up to the show were filled with awkward and pressing questions – would the strippers be wearing teeny little boxers or would they go totally Full Monty? How would my drunken self respond to such an overwhelming number of bulges and abs? Would I laugh? Would I be disturbed?
…Would I think it was sexy?
While my male housemate was of the firm opinion that what we’d see would be arousing beyond belief, I couldn’t help but feel I’d find the whole thing completely ridiculous.
The day of the show quickly rolled by. Before I knew it, I was sat in Players, being served sambuca shots and complimentary Prosecco by topless waiters. The awkwardness I’d been struck with since entering the club began to subside, and excitement started to kick in.
We found ourselves seats four rows from the front. I helped myself to a hot dog from the buffet, and settled back in my chair.
It was showtime.
The lights were dimmed accordingly, and we were introduced to the host (a drag queen, of course). Then they dropped the bombshell: Birmingham City Council don’t allow full frontal nudity.
Cue a whole load of boos from the audience.
The drag show was pretty funny, and she had the most amazing legs. They really were phenomenal.
Soon enough though, the question of the night came around: “Who wants to see some cock?”
And so the first stripper got on stage. Decked out in a predictable and very tightly fitting policeman get-up, we were treated to a series of semi-naked acrobatic moves, including (but by no means limited to) splits on a chair, and a little parading around wearing nothing but teeny boxers. So far, all good and a lot of fun, but nothing too (a)rousing yet.
The second stripper emerged in a bad rendition of a pilot costume, and began his routine.
This one was perhaps the least interesting, and as hot as he was, it was sadly hard to see past the thin and tacky costume to find it even mildly sexy.
He then proceeded to remove his boxers and performed a “dancing penis behind the towel routine”, which moved swiftly from the arguably erotic into the laughably comic.
The last stripper got up to do his thing. Dressed as a sexy fireman, he paraded himself around the room at ease, treating multiple lucky ladies to lap dances. He also gave us a cheeky, “accidental” flash of his colossal cock, much to the excitement of most of the crowd (sorry, Birmingham City Council).
In a strange patriotic twist, he swapped his towel for an extremely see-through England flag with a flourish, treating us to one last wiggle to bring the night to a close.
I’m not sure what I’d make of this in a state of sobriety, but after six sambuca shots, I’m not going to lie – I was totally loving it.
And so the night concluded.
Later at the bar, we were relieved to hear one Dreamboy proudly announce himself as a stripper, after we felt slightly embarrassed for objectifying them in such a way.
If he’s alright with that, then so are we.
It was a lot of fun, and despite collectively being the youngest group there, we had a good time. While it’s definitely not your average Saturday night out, it provided a lot of fun and a lot of laughs.
What more could you want from a hen do?