I'm traveling abroad with my best friend. He's straight and aware of my sexual identity. He's also very much aware of our mutual love and appreciation for women's breasts. Even though I'm gay, I still think boobs are magnificent and a lot of fun.
So, yesterday, he suggested we attend a strip club. As his best friend, I dutifully agreed. Next thing you know, however, we've been accosted by multiple dancers and each taken back to a dark room, covered in tacky, red crushed velvet and I'm paying for a lap dance from a topless, well-endowed girl in a g-string.
Moral of the story: Regardless of how hard the sweet stripper tried to illicit a "reaction" from me, I spent thirty dollars to let my body remind myself I'm still gay.