Jun 142010
 

As a sex writer, I feel it is my duty to experience things regarding sex that I have not seen yet. When I encountered ‘The Lusty Lady’ across from the Seattle Art Museum, I felt it was my sacred calling to go check it out. I am an erotic writer; it would be negligent to my craft not to take a look.

Who am I kidding? It was a peepshow and I’m a guy. I wanted to go.

The sign outside proclaimed “Clotheing Soon’. They are closing this year which only increased my urgency to go. According to the Seattle Stranger, the closing of Washing Mutual down the street really hurt their business. Curse you financial bank crisis!

After touring the Art Museum, my wife stayed at the cafe to rest while I popped over across the street. I opened the pitch black door and entered a rather brightly lit open lobby. I wish more places had that good of lighting. Sulking in shadows implies shame in my mind.

A woman behind a counter was on a microphone. She announced that a new dancer was taking the stage. A change machine was by the counter but it was out of order. DVDs and some sex toys were for sale but nothing like a souvenir. I guess t-shirts don’t sell at peepshows.

Beside the counter, a group of Polaroid pictures were taped to the wall. The Polaroids showed smiling happy women not quite posing for the camera. I was intrigued by how none of them were striking a sexy pose. They were giggling or smiling in every picture. It looked less like a dancer catalog and more like a scrapbook at a sorority. I liked it.

Past the wall of pictures was a curious area. On the right was a wall of doors. On the left was another change machine and a box of tissues. I watched as a man came out of a door and grab a single tissue as he hurriedly walked out of the place. I wondered why he was getting a tissue AFTER seeing the peepshow but that’s me.

Let me say something about the guys here. None of them made eye contact. All of them were walking as fast as humanely possible without running. All of them looked nervous as fuck. It was startling to me that I have anxiety issues and take medication for it, and yet I was the only relaxed person here. I guess going to all of those dungeon parties and being a sex writer does pay off.

Back to the wall of doors. The doors told you what options were available for each door. Some doors only accepted cash inside. Other doors allowed you to have a two way-mirror, and that cost extra. I didn’t have much choice as the only door available was one with a one way mirror and accepted cash. Well, that made me feel dumb for getting five dollars of quarters.

The door opened into an area barely three feet square. I was extra careful not to touch a fucking thing. I wasn’t really sure how anyone would be able to jack off here. The closet was pitch black except for the glowing cash receiver. I popped a dollar in and up went a sliding panel. Finally, I was watching a peepshow.

On the other side of the window was a large area that was as long as the row of closets that could watch. The area inside was paneled with mirrors, so if there wasn’t a dancer in front of me, through the use of mirrors I could easily see where the dancers were. There were no stripped poles but there was a group of ingenious handrails around each window so that the dancers could hold onto them while gyrating in your face.

Unfortunately, the mirrored walls meant I could also perfectly see the guy who was looking through the two-way mirror closets. The guy I saw was a large Asian man who had his head tilted to the left. He didn’t move a muscle but he had this rictus grin on his face. Thankfully the windows are high enough that I couldn’t see his waist.

The dancers themselves were an interesting mix. There was a tall woman with Asian features but she was wearing a short blond wig that made her look like an even more exotic Clara Bow. There was an older redhead that was on the far side of the peep room. Last, there was a brunette with small breasts who was dancing with twice the enthusiasm of the others. 80’s music played which didn’t surprise me at all. It seems like all sex dancing music was written in the 80’s.

The closest dancer was the blond and she was playing up to a window to my right. The brunette was dancing hard for someone to my left. I was surprised that there would be three dancers which was nice, but with their focus on other windows, I felt more like a voyeur watching someone else’s danceshow than watching one for me. Perhaps that is the selfish dom in me speaking. I also wonder if there is a commercial reason. If a girl is not dancing for you, then you need to feed more money until she comes around for you.

I guess I should mention the rates. I beleive a quarter gets you thirty seconds, which is insane to my mind. I spent seven dollars in total which got me fourteen minutes total. That is a fucking steal in my mind. Perhaps it is too good of a deal and that is why they are closing.

The girls were nude except from microskirts that were used mostly to briefly cover their sexes before revealing them again. As a breast man, I was amused by how much of the dancing focused on their sexes. Every girl thrust their sex to the window, allowing the guy inside to study just how much pubic hair they had and the shape of their lips.

I also noticed something that I am tempted to call Richard’s Law of Strippers. In any group of Strippers, there will be one dancer that performs with such enthusiasm that she makes the other girls look like they have blackmailed into performing. In this group it was the brunette and man, I wish I could hire her as a character for my stories. She smiled. She laughed. She bit her lip in such a way that you were almost tempted to beleive she was aroused. It wasn’t that the other girls were bad, it was just that she sold the idea of being a stripper with a heart of gold.

I could be biased. She turned her attention to me and started crawling towards me. She couldn’t see me but they must have a way of knowing which windows had occupants. She slowed down her dancing and grabbed the bars beside my window. She stopped dancing like she was in a club and danced like she was alone with me. Her body slow danced in front of me like an offering. Her eyes were half closed with intimacy. She looked right into the one way mirror with pleading on her face.

The window began to close. She must have known because her hand moved down her body parallel to the window. As it closed, I saw her hand go over her small breast, down her smooth belly and onto her sex. The window closed as her finger toyed with her pubic hair.

I applauded and regretted that she couldn’t hear my clapping. More than likely she was annoyed that I didn’t put more money in. I just wanted to end on that perfect note.

Before the window closed, I saw that a black girl had joined the group and the redhead had cycled out. I so appreciate racial diversity in my peepshows. The black girl was also wearing a teddy and some garters, so there is some variety in the clothing. I am all for variety.

I walked out of my closet and joined the group of men who were avoiding eye contact. I stopped by the wall of pictures to see if I could spot the brunette. The Polaroids didn’t seem to match the girl I saw. Probably for the best.

I walked back over to the museum and rejoined my wife. She was annoyed that i spent seven dollars which cracked me up to no end. Considering that I have been to some places that charge 20$ just to get in the door, seven dollars was a miracle. The five dollars in quarters made up for it though as we finally had change for the bus.

For a more detailed article, I highly recommend this one by The Stranger. Possibly the best sex industry writing I have seen in awhile. The picture up top is also from the article.

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