Is the rush of straight women going to D.C. strip clubs girly fun or, like so much else about strip clubs, depressing as hell? The debate continues at the Washington Post.

The case for the former was made last week in a story about Stadium Club’s increasing popularity with women. But today, Post columnist Petula Dvorak fires back, writing that a lot of those women in clubs, whether onstage or in the booth, aren’t thrilled to be there:

“Between us girls, I started coming to keep an eye on him,” a woman sitting in the front row at one of the sad, suburban clubs told me behind her husband’s back. While their 3-year-old son slept at home with a sitter, they were in the strip club. She smiled at her husband and said, “We bring home some of what we learn here,” with a wink. “And this way, I know he’s coming home with me.”

Aw! And it gets worse when Dvorak pulls out a cautionary tale with a surprise ending:

I remember one dancer who was the portrait of success. She was a shrewd investor — gold, coins, stocks. She had a beautiful house in central New Jersey, and her income supported much of her extended family — sisters, aunts, her parents. She never went home with customers, was careful, healthy and beautiful.

I learned all of this from court records after she was murdered by an obsessed customer who followed her home.

When Dvorak wants to shut down a party, she doesn’t kid around.

While I’m loathe to have any more Post local-color writers hanging around strip clubs, the paper needs just one more article to single-handedly make women in strip clubs a trend. I nominate Answers Man John Kelly, whose fedora-centric look will help him blend right in.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery