No Matter What a Stripper Tells You, There's No Sex in the Champagne Room

Last night before our drunken turkey sandwich fiasco, this story came back to me. About two months before I married the woman of my dreams I embarked on the age old ritual of the Bachelor Party. Now if you know my friends, especially my best man Ben, you will know we do things to the extreme. Instead of a one night trip to the strip club, he decided a four day weekend in Myrtle Beach might be sufficient enough to celebrate my last weekend of freedom. The trip was fun. We had an entertaining first night where Colin yelled obscenities to unsuspecting people walking by the bar. We played 100 degree hungover golf. I passed out in the club with my head on the table. The owner of said club gave us protrone to drink (hence passed out with head on the table). My groomsman spent obscene amounts of money as well. None of the madness can compare to the end of the trip. The last night we were there our group was feeling the effects of three days of drunken madness. We wanted to do something relaxing. STRIP CLUB what better way to relax. Now I have been to a few of these establishments in my day, but this was by far the nicest strip club I have ever been to. The woman didn't smell of stupidity and failure, the drinks were not too overpriced, and the women were quite attractive. So as we got our front row seat women would come by and offer shooters and a table dance for $10. Nothing out of the ordinary untill SHE rolled up. Yes, I said rolled up. A woman in a wheel chair selling these shooters and table dances rolls up and picks her target. My friend Adam. Now Adam and I believe that they have his picture up in every strip club in America because of a story I will elaborate on another time. He is always the target when we would go to a strip club. So she rolls up to Adam (every time I say "rolls" it makes me laugh inside)and tries to solicit a shooter and a table dance. Adam wants no part of this, but Adam being the nice guy he is feels sorry for the paraplegic woman of the night. He decides he will purchase a shooter and a dance, but for me. So the stripper rolls up to me and gives me the shooter and I down it. She then asked me, "Are you ready for your dance?" My crew of flunkies are all hysterically laughing at this point because I am about to receive a table dance from a girl in a wheel chair. So I say I am ready. The women then gets up out of the wheel chair and starts to give me a table dance. All of my friends start dying laughing, all except Adam. He had the look of sure defeat and disappointment. The stripper could not even finish the dance because she was laughing to hard. Apparently, the stripper had borrowed the chair from a customer. He had actually sold her entire tray of shooters in under 30 minutes. It was the perfect way to end a fun filled weekend, but that part of it will stick with me forever. I don't think Adam will ever trust a stripper in a wheel chair again.