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In “Film Strip” (1/15) by Brett Anderson, Deborah Rowe affirms that women “are fuck creatures.” Regarding strippers, I agree with her 100 percent.

However, I fiercely dispute the claim that “a man who knows the game will fork out hundreds for the right to sit with a dancer,” on the basis of personal experience.

Over the past eight months, I’d been involved with one of Natasha’s “naked lady dancers.” Our relationship was purely sexual, and money had minimal influence, because I knew exactly how to play her game.

First of all, I bear no resemblance to the losers that customarily patronize Joanna’s. I’m 23, African-American, unwed, and far from desperate. Though I truly dress the role, my salary isn’t six figures.

Understand that few men have what it takes to play the game in Joanna’s and not get burned. Confidence, intuition, and charisma are key—aside from knowing that you’re every stripper’s prey upon entering the club.

Unlike the regulars, I never walked into Joanna’s intending “to pay homage to the physical beauty of a sexual goddess.” Nor did I wish to form bogus friendships with exotic dancers. My aim was simply to seduce “the unattainable” (a stripper) using as little money as possible, and that’s exactly what I did.

Ironically, the task wasn’t nearly as difficult as I’d originally anticipated. In fact, it was ridiculously easy. I simply exhibited my “strength going toe to toe,” and these are the secrets to my success:

1. On the night that I met her, I purchased a $140 bottle of champagne for the purpose of getting myself wasted and loosening her inhibitions (but I never purchased another bottle or drink for her thereafter).

2. I never tipped her more than $10 on any given night—though I once slipped her $100 by accident. (Luckily, she nicely gave it back.)

3. I never believed a word that she uttered and let her know it (even when she said, “I love you”).

4. Whenever we were together, I never shared my problems with her. I only talked dirty and told her everything that she wanted to hear from a man’s mouth.

5. Knowing that strippers can be insanely jealous and self-conscious, I pursued a rival dancer for the sake of causing sparks. Nonetheless, she still invited me to spend the night with her on quite a few occasions, and I happily obliged.

So, I ask everyone, who is the

real player?

Is it the fool who spends hundreds of dollars for the sake of companionship?

Or is it the tightwad customer who somehow manages to schmooze his way into a stripper’s panties (and I’m not talking about handjobs)?

Emery “Dón E.” Jones

Silver Spring, Md

via the Internet