My Life As A Male Stripper


Our unit often spent anywhere from a week to a couple of months preparing for our ops. This was usually done state-side on large military bases where the geography and buildings we would encounter were built in mock-up.

During this training, which we referred to as “being spun up”, we were able to enjoy all the benefits of being back on U.S. soil. There was the language we knew well, the foods we recognized, the latest in music and entertainment, and, of course, the comfort of beautiful American women.

As with any large military installation, the town it supported was rife with bars and strip clubs catering to the young men and women stationed on base. During one of these times, I had started a relationship with a stripper. That is likely a story unto itself, but we can save that for another time. Nothing overly serious, as we both knew I would not be around for long. Just two people happy to share the time they were given together.

Over breakfast one morning, financed by the horny young men who had tipped her the night before, her and a few of her uninhibited friends were complaining that all the bars have female strippers and there was nowhere for them to go to enjoy the same visual entertainment. My spotter, Jeff, (we were virtually inseparable) and I jokingly said that if they found a bar that would have us, we would be male strippers for one night. The giggling around the table made this seem an agreed on laughable idea. And the subject vanished into warm pancakes and sparkle body lotion.

About a week later, my girlfriend announced that she had found a small bar that would let us work one night on stage. She had made all the arrangements for us to “dance” that Saturday night. When I showed a modicum of hesitation, she gave me that look that said, “I thought you were bluffing”. Well, that is all an overachieving Marine needs, a challenge. I told her we were in.

I had to admit to her that I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I offered this silliness, but she assured me she was an expert. She worked with the bar to advertise this one-night event. She took me out to buy me a couple of thongs. She helped me with some deft choreography. As the night neared, I started to feel a little excited and just a touch more confidence. But then she conveyed some information that gave me pause. As it turns out, there is an old law on the books in the state that specifies that anyone dancing in a venue that serves alcohol cannot show body hair below the waist. I am not sure if this was done to encourage a bit of hygiene or to simply encourage them to not expose themselves, but it was never meant for the male dancer, I am sure. However, there was no way around it. So, Jeff and I were faced with having to shave our legs if we were going to follow through on this.

I can now say, with firsthand knowledge, that this task is not as easy as the women in our lives make it look. The contortionist flexibility required to reach some places is just painful. Much less the fact that after three swipes, the disposable razor was worthless and needed replaced. I, eventually, took a good two-inch-long section of skin off my heel before I even knew what happened. What a trial to be standing in the privacy of your own bathroom trying to shave your legs. But alas, we did not have the privacy of a bathroom. We shared our shower room with the twenty other Marines living in that squad bay. And as Jeff and I stood in the open tiled space, we were heckled and teased by every other Marine. In a group of type “A” men, it was a feeding frenzy on our egos.

Short story shorter, we did eventually dance that night at the bar. We took turns dancing to three songs and then the other would take over again. This went on for about an hour and a half. There were only women in the crowd and there must have been at least seventy or more. Many were strippers out for their own night of fun, so they were very supportive and able to have fun with the whole thing. Those who weren’t in the industry seemed to have their fun too.

I have to say this rare experience taught me a great deal. Let’s review.

  1. Be careful what you say.
  2. Women are amazing creatures that kill themselves just to be even more beautiful than they already are. I will never underappreciate the silky-smooth texture of soft skin.
  3. A pocket full of cash can erase the laughter of lesser men.
  4. Men know how to behave in a strip club and women do not. They are easily emboldened by a mob mentality.
  5. When your legs are shaved smooth, every piece of clothing you put on feels so weird.
  6. Feeling desired is the panacea for any ego.
  7. Watch out for crisp new bills, going in and coming out.
  8. Exotic dancers/entertainers and sex workers are people too.
  9. I now understand the phrase, “My eyes are up here”.
  10. After your girlfriend pimps you out as a male stripper, it is only just and right that you pay for breakfast!
25 Responses to “My Life As A Male Stripper”
  1. Having seen many of the females drool over you when you wore your speedo to the complex pool, I have no doubt that you were well-received on the stage. I would have loved to see your contortionist movements while shaving your legs and am glad that your exercise in hair removal has made you more aware of the time and pain we suffer to make ourselves seemingly more attractive to the mail species. Be grateful that you didn’t have to do your underarms and chest as well!

    • Brad Osborne says:

      You say that like I haven’t done my underarms and chest before….probably another story for another time….😁

      • I await with great anticipation for that story! And I’m still waiting, with even greater anticipation, for the story about being kept overnight for observation (I don’t want to give the story away here, but you know which one).

  2. beth says:

    this is so hilarious and great! what an amazing experience and so many lessons… this is another retirement job option for you someday

  3. Great story and memory my friend! During my first year of policework the girls in my unit wanted me to try stripping/dancing at a regular drinking party we used to have every week after shift, but I never built up the courage. Yer a better man my friend!

  4. kristianw84 says:

    I love your stories!! This was quite an amusing read, especially the part about shaving your legs.

    Also, I need to know the exact date this event took place, so when time travel becomes possible, I’ll know which date to travel back to!

  5. You are full of surprises, Brad!

  6. Jim Borden says:

    I always wondered how marines prepared for battle. Now I know. It’s all in, with no regrets.

    Great story, with a great sense of humor. and some life lessons as well. What’s not to like!

  7. petespringerauthor says:

    The Few. The Proud. The Ones Who Have No Shame. The Marines. 🤣
    I got quite a few laughs reading this—never challenge a Marine.

  8. jonicaggiano says:

    I am not surprised you looked good enough to strip but I guess I was surprised you did. I would have love to have seen that, and I bet once you got into it you had a great time. Sounds like everyone had fun. It sounds like you appreciated what women go through in order to look as good as they can. The story made me laugh trying to imagine two marines trying to shave their legs while the others looked on teasing. I say good for you. I appreciate you sharing this story Brad it made my morning. Sending big hugs and tassels. Haha ❤️🤗🦋love Jonikins

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