The Column

**UP IN DA CLUB** SP, SP, SP!!! Hold on to your keyboards, and secure your mouse, for the Guru has gone where many men have probably gone before. This morning the voice mails were in the hundreds as to the happenings and sightings of a one Mr. SP Pub Guru, but one stood above the rest. Our spy reports that late on Saturday evening, lets just say early Sunday morning the Guru was seen entering one of New York's premier strip clubs. The Guru was not alone, good thing because that's just not cool, he was rolling with a small crew, who too possess his troublesome behavior when situations allow. Our spy shocked to see the Guru, and at all places a strip club, they immediate followed the group into the club. Once in the club SP and crew where taken to a table in the center, and told to have a good time. SP was seen mouthing, "Thanks," to the host as he walked away.

The three ordered up some drinks, and before they knew it, things were on. Our spy was able to get a table close enough to overhear the group, and keep an eye on their devious actions. By the time the drinks arrived, the three had a group of ladies consuming their every last bit of attention. The waitress understanding the situation waited patiently for one of the three to see that she had arrived with refreshments, and understand that it was time to pay. Catching her out of the corner of his, one of SP's crew without taking is attention away from what was going on in his immediate life, reached into his pocket pulling out his credit card (saving his cash for more important expenditures), and executed a no-look placement on the drink tray. After the first group of ladies finished and moved on to other wide-eyed patrons, the three grabbed their drinks, cheered and congratulated each other on such a good idea. It was then that our spy overheard their ploy to have a little fun with the lovely dancers.

The other member of SP's crew, the one without the no-look credit card skills, suggested they come up with crazy names and jobs. This was spawned after hearing the group compare their last dancers name. One of the girls was Jasmine, another sounded like Aqua, and lastly but certainly not least Kat. After hearing these names it was time for the guys to change it up too. Throughout the night our spy overheard countless off the wall names and job descriptions, the following are just a sprinkling.

First up was No-Look credit card, and he took the ball and ran. Introducing himself as Chad Lowson from Altoona, Pennsylvania. The girl of course was from Johnston, Pennsylvania, a mere 45-minute drive from Altoona. Before she could break into local PA chitchat, No-Look switched gears asking her if she knows of the big John Deere retailer in Altoona. She declined, to no ones surprise, and No-Look went into how he's here for the weekend at the Big Iron Farm Show and Expo. This of course loses her interest instantaneously, and she finishes her routine, and asks for the $20 (dances cost $20, this is another reason the credit card was sent to the bar for safe keeping).

After Porsche left, it was the creator of the games turn. He dropped in like a double agent on crack. He goes into his schpeel introducing himself as Zoe Wainwright from Medicine Bow, Montana. This girl however wasn't as lucky or should I say unlucky for knowing where Medicine Bow was located. Wasting no time during the 3-minute dance, Double Agent explained how he was a Shepherd, and not a small time Shepherd at that. Boosting of his 3 herds numbering in the hundreds, he let her know he was a man of business, a man that could direct, a man that could organize, and most importantly a man who could stand mightily with a hooked cane. After the bouncer came over to pull poor Vanity's eyes back into place, they seem to have gotten stuck by the excessive rolling throughout the story, she finished her dance, collected, and walk away cautiously, not wanting to be herded back by his hooked cane.

SP's turn. Having watched his two buddies pave a nice road of utter stupidity before him, he was unsure of his ability to compete. As a blonde haired dancer approached he snapped into character. Introducing himself as Ira Rothmansteinberg from Hovenweep, Utah. She had heard of Utah, but that was it, Hovenweep must have missed her radar. She did however comment on his unusually long last name. SP worried that this one could give him a run for his money quickly answered back, that he came from a very non-traditional Jewish family. Instead of converting their surname upon entering the United States, they added another suffix to the end when the situation got sketchy. He followed that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea because the name changing and moving only landed them in Utah. Now if his grandparents had done what their brothers and sister did, which was change over to the surname of Smith, he could have been living the good life on the east coast with the other incognito Jews. Fearing he had just said way too much, he decided to go into the occupation explanation stage. But before he could tell her about his thriving tourist trap at Hovenweep National Monument, and the souvenir spoons he can't seem to keep in stock, she asked him why he was in New York City. SP not expecting this, and more importantly not liking how he wasn't controlling the conversation, replied with, "I'm on a mega vacation."

"What is a mega vacation," she asked.

SP took a big breath and explained, “A mega vacation is when you travel to an area/city where you can see, taste, and experience things that your current environment doesn't have. I've been living in Utah since I was 8 and I have yet to experience all that this great country/New York City has to offer. I live in a state where no one drinks alcohol, coffee is forbidden, marriage is encourage at birth, pizza, well I won't even get into pizza, garlic pickles are non-existent, strip clubs, 4am bar closes, women who don't make every decision on where the good Lord would agree, all no's. A mega vacation is just that, an escape from the everyday shackles of my life.

Holiday, looked on as though she just might have listened to all his drunken babble, but doubtful. As she was finishing the dance, and before she asked for the $20, she asked if he was going to go back.

Ira's answer was simple, “Yes.”

"How come?"

"Well between the fact that I left my front door wide open, and I borrowed my neighbors car to drive out here, I'd say a return is in order," The Guru answered.

She left and SP, Double Agent, and No-Look argued who's story was best, agreeing on the fact that SP should have said he was a preacher, it would gone along better with his long winded BS fest. All in all the three had fun. They took on a few more dances, told a few more stories to unexpecting/uninterested strippers, and while our spy was in the bathroom made for the door, and disappeared into the city they knew, and laughing about the cities they were glad they didn't.