Swap Meets & Strip Clubs
Two things on my list for every vacation. It’s seriously a must. Though, it doesn’t always happen. I can’t always get the group to join me on my strip club excursions. My sister has been the most consistent, but secretly, I think she hates it. You see, I’m totally about that strip club life. I over tip everybody. Especially the DJs. So once the dancers spot me in my comfort zone, they come flockin’. As they should. I hate seeing customers just sit around and gawk. Pull out some money or go home and watch porn! Well…my sister is a major ass gawker. But since she normally sits right next to me, everybody figures she’s on the same shit I’m on. Forcing her to spend her souvenir money on lap dances. It’s routine for her to roll her eyes at me while she’s getting more money out of her wallet. It’s also tradition for her to talk shit about me to her girlfriends back in the states.
“I don’t know why she can’t just be still and sip her drink!” she would often complain. That’s about the time I would leave the room. Let her talk her shit in peace cause she definitely doesn’t want me to add my two cents. Sitting by the pool while comparing every strip club to the ones in Atlanta is a better way for me to spend my time. There’s no comparison to the clubs in Atlanta in my opinion. And please don’t bite my head off. I haven’t had the opportunity to go to any of the Miami strip clubs. I came close one night…I’m getting dizzy just thinking about that long ass crazy ass day…I’m hoping to make it into a Miami strip club so I can do a real comparison. But as of right now, ATL is IT!
The best out of town strip club for me has to be District in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The music was up to date and the girls had a good ratio of natural to fake bodies. I had to run up and hug (and tip) the bell hop at our hotel. He was the one that put me on! I wanted to go back to District on our last night, but my mom was hatin’. She had us running around all day and made these fancy ass late dinner plans for the end of our night. The food was good, but I’m willing to bet a second round at the club would’ve been better.
The worst strip club for me has to be Pussy Cats in Paris, France. I might be lying about the exact name but it’s some kind of play on the word “pussy.” First of all, it smelled like the toilette had overflowed in that bitch. I didn’t even want my Converse to touch the floor. And if you’ve seen my Travel Chuck Taylors, you’ll know that the smell must have been pretty bad. No lie, I’ve worked in some holes in the walls, but this spot took the entire cake. Since we paid like $20 for entry, we decided to at least hold our breath to check out one of the dancers…big mistake…a botched titty chick dragged her ass on stage and proceeded to do a dance that was somewhere in between the “drunk dancer” and the “I don’t wanna be here dancer.” I shuffled around my bag to find five dollars to leave on stage before we made our exit. Ol’ girl got pissed and screamed “MONKEYS!” at us before we could hit the door. We all stopped dead in our tracks. I’m sure we each had the same thought. As bad as we wanted to fuck that lopsided hoe up, we were black and foreign in this white ass country. We all wanted to just make it back home to our families. And my mom warned me years ago, “Be on your best behavior ‘cause I don’t have NO BAIL MONEY for you!” Duly noted. I took European strip clubs off my list that very night. But that was a lie. My family is heading to Southern Europe in about a year. I’m sure I’ll find myself in another Euro strip club once again. I’ll just follow my gut and my nose in the right direction next time around.
It’s seriously hard to get my entire travel group to go to the strip club, but no one misses out on the swap meets. They call them marketplaces in other countries. I really prefer to do those ventures on my own. No one I know shops at my speedy pace. I have a friend Denise that’s pretty quick with shopping when we’re home in L.A., but when it comes to overseas, she’s totally scatterbrained and indecisive. It’s so annoying. And the Uber bill gets so high with her traveling from high end shop to high end shop just to find some dumb ass looking purse. I learned a trick though. I usually run out of our hotel room extra early to take a morning swim. By the time I get back, Denise is either gone or seconds away from stepping out the door. “Just go without me girl. It’s no way I’ll be ready in time,” is my favorite explanation. That way, I get the whole day to myself. Anxiety free!
My favorite swap meet is El Rastro in Madrid, Spain. Ohh My God it’s so crowded! But so much fun. It’s only on Sundays and everything is there. I found the cutest wrap dress with the most vibrant colors! It looks so good on me. I’m sure I could’ve found more trinkets if I had more room to breathe. That marketplace is like sitting on the 405 freeway during rush hour traffic. I’ll have my chance to make another go of it next year. Hopefully this time I can find a purse to go with my cute ass wrap dress. Or maybe even some bomb ass sandals.
I don’t have any bad experiences at any out of town swap meet so I might as well tell you about my second favorite which is in Marrakesh, Morocco. The Old City marketplace, or Jemaa El-Fnna, is so huge and has every damn thing. I even peeped a real live baboon that rolled his eyes at me. And I had the nerve to roll my eyes back. DON’T LAUGH! I was high key offended! The dirham ran out pretty quick for me and my homegirls because we were buying up all the hijabs…we call them moo moos around these parts…all the embroidered slippers, and all the saffron. It was very Sex and the City 2-ish. I brought some spices home to my mom and her snake ass gave them away to her sister! Talking about “I just didn’t trust the way it was wrapped.” She no longer gets special souvenirs from me any longer. Although we had the best time shopping, the men had a better time pulling us in every direction. Since they were calling us their “Wives and Girlfriends,” I guess that made it cool for them to drag us through the swap meet. Of course, my first instinct was to start gang bangin’ and snatch my arm back. But don’t forget, my mom doesn’t have bail money for me. So it was better to do the “shy laugh” and ease myself away as best as I could. It worked. I’m definitely making another trip to the souk because those steel purses are my absolute favorite accessory! My nephew will be with me the next time around so I won’t have to worry about getting snatched up.
Let me calm down because I already feel myself getting excited for next year! There’s a couple of strip clubs in the Valley that have opened up so I might have to slide through to curb my anxiousness. What about you? What are your must dos or must haves on vacation? And let’s FIGHT! Who has better strip clubs than the ATL? Let me know at jualeeah@jualeeworld.com or JualeeWorld@yahoo.com
