Stage by Stage...

As with most things in life falling head over heels in love with a stripper doesn't just happen. No no fools, before you rush in and believe that 'love at first sight crap', you must remember that it doesn't apply to ladies that earn their wares by taking off their underwear. Falling for a pole dancer is like a quadruped moving forward, it involves 4 steps.

Lucky for you who is perched in the lotus position in the hotspot of the local Mug & Bean surfing the net that you have stumbled upon the very site that will reveal these, first to be documented, 4 steps. You see apart from being incredibly well educated, groomed, hung, spoken and read we here at Rockstar Journals are also extremely well traveled...

To find out and study this love phenomenon I had to travel deep into South East Asia so I could first hand witness the goings on at the very coal face of the art that is table-top gyration. Yes I did come back with other interesting tit bits like how pathetic anyone in Africa doing Muay Thai is cause there are some Thai boxing students that aren't old enough to cross the road alone that will whip your glam-fighting ass like you are the Springboks in Brisbane and never wash kao pad moo down with cheap beer but you don't want to hear that. Lean in closer for the real stuff!


Step 1: You stride into the dimly lit smoky room battling to hold your breath and the urge to display a frantic display of end zone fist pumping. [I am no Waldon Pyre, so writing it how I saw it. Bear with me here, plus keep those fists ready cause you can unleash the sky boxing shortly] You get ushered to your comfy perch in the amphitheatre seating by the brutish mama san's torch and before your gluts have hit the vinyl a bitterly cold green bottle is thrust into your hand and the condensation drips down your sweaty grip. You motion the Heineken rim to your lips and as you lift your head back to let the ice cold liquid make love to your dust coated tonsils, your eyes draw level to the stage and the sight of her hits you harder than tonight's kao pad moo.

Step 2: So step 1 is similar to love at first sight, but here is where it changes. Before you is a meat marker of girls dancing shoulder to shoulder wearing very little but lace and leather. They’re like the All Blacks defense at ruck time except pretty, and wearing less. A lot prettier and a lot less. In amongst the stage full of clones stands out one that is so superior to the rest you don’t notice the others. You force a smile from your frozen body and from behind her dark brown eyes slides a sneaky wink, a graceful hair toss and just like that she is gone…

Step 3: She pops up next to you like Tyler Durden, where did she come from? In the following 10 minutes you have bought her a shot glass of fanta that cost 4 times the Heinekens you keep getting handed and after a conversation in broken English she has firmly wrapped your heart around her little finger. Quick as her ninja powers allow she is gone from your side and back on stage gyrating to the somewhat inappropriate melody of Fat Bottomed Girls.

Step 4: This is where your head orbits your heels quicker than a Bangkok taxi weaves through traffic! You wake up and beat down your hangover with questions that are unfortunately synonymous with falling in love with a stripper. Why is such a nice girl in such a horrible place? Surely she can find an easier way to pay for university? She is so good for someone who has only done it for 3 weeks? I can’t believe she was so into me and paid such good attention to me? I wonder if she will let me pay for her studies? I wonder if she wants to come study back home? Should I ask her when I go back tonight?

Such is life. And such is falling in love with a stripper…