Strip clubs aren’t really my thing. If that’s your scene, no judgements, but I prefer to keep my money in my wallet, my motorcycles not knocked over by crazy people, and my cars not riddled with bullets.
One time I was at a strip club in Houston and the waitress told me somebody “knocked over” my motorcycle. I ran outside just in time to see the security guard empty his pistol into the rear window of a Miata that was attempting to run him over in reverse. The Miata guy drove across the street to a gas station, got out at the fuel pump and tried to stick paper towels in the bullet holes in his back then fell over dead right in front of us. Turns out he was being a dick, got thrown out, didn’t like that and tried to vehicularly homicide the door guy but not before he ran over my bike with the car.
And he was a Saudi ( a Dead Saudi) and it was a rental so dealing with insurance was a bitch.
And that’s why I no longer go to titty bars.
Yeah, fair enough, dude. At least you got a COTD win out of it!
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