I went to a strip-club with my boyfriend

It’s 2am, the clubs closing and your drunkness is peaking. The thought of going home shatters your world and you’re desperate to take the party elsewhere.

On a Monday night, this was a bit tricky, as town wasn’t exactly lit and the busiest place was probably the kebab shop. For once in our lives, the idea of nuggets and chips didn’t do it for us. We needed an afterparty.

How our nights usually end

Convinced there was bound to be some magical club open ‘til 5am on a weeknight, we asked the bouncers around us for some tips. They certainly delivered,  directing us to the local strip-club in exchange for a cigarette each (well earned).

We took on the mission to find this strip-club that we weren’t completely sure existed. After drunkenly stumbling while trying to remember how to use Google Maps, we found it. The Lodge Gentleman’s Club – the name says it all really.

No gentlemen here

Once inside, the party was definitely not popping. I’m not sure exactly what we were expecting but this was not it.

They were banging out the Drake tunes but no one was dancing, what was this place? I wanted to dance but didn’t know if I was allowed, and I didn’t want to show the strippers up.

After paying the overpriced entry fee I wasn’t going to risk it – not even hotline bling could tempt me now. We got the drinks in, at £6 each, and sat down in the big comfy chairs placed around the podium. Oh, and we strictly weren’t allowed to take any pics.

couples that rave together stay together

When a dancer finally came out, I wasn’t really sure where to look. I felt like I was in an episode of Brazzers, but minus the nipples. All the girls wore tape to cover their nips, but the tape fell off one of the dancer’s nipples which was a bit awkward. Where was I meant to look? As a girl, I’m not hugely familiar with strip-club etiquette. I still have no idea.

After the show, one of the dancers approached my boyfriend at the bar and kindly offered to sit on his lap. He politefully declined. I would normally kick off in this situation but given the circumstances, I let her off. We later saw her disappear off with a guy for a private viewing, which I was a bit confused by as he didn’t seem like the stereotypical strip club punter. When he came back he said it cost him £20, but he didn’t go into too much detail as he didn’t want to kiss and tell.

It was a strange night. My boyfriend explained that he felt a bit weird using the urinals that some bloke had probably jizzed into. Being the jealous girlfriend I am, at times I did find myself scanning bae for any signs of horniness. I wanted him to have fun, but not too much.

Safe to say it didn’t do it for him. We began to sober up and his hangover started to kick in. I think he was more focused on not chundering over the podium than watching the booty bouncing in front of him.