steak,eggs and strips (property of @raisin'ell)

On the first night back in my home province we skipped dinner and went straight out for drinks. A couple hours in, we realised we had been foolish for not eating something beforehand and suggestions started flying for where we could get something to eat. "Teazers has food" one of my friends eagerly states. Didn't take much to convince me, and not long after we finished our rounds of brandy and coke we headed to Teazers in Durban.

I knew what to expect from a strip club but I didn't know what to expect from the food. R150 for all you can eat (and stare really) and it was goooorg-eous. I was surprised to be served such a hearty and wholesome meal at this sort of establishment. One would have though it would have been more finger foods (errhm) but no, it was a full on 'help yourself' buffet. The table was fully equipped with warming trays, stylish cutlery, sauces, spices and a delicious array of curries, chicken and vegetables. Most women wouldn't feel comfortable scoffing face with lovely slim ladies prancing about scantily clad but I was one of the first folk up. It was dark in there, so not always easy to see what you're getting but I could make it out every few seconds when the fuchsia pink party light came around to the corner of the room.

It was so funny to watch these men oogle  at their table dancer, pay her for her services, adjust their pants, engage in an awkward gaze at each other and then step over to the dinner table to dish up some grub.

Eating at the club was only part of the nights events as shortly after our meal a bachelor stepped up onto stage. Apparently the deal is that the MC asks the bachelor's friends' how many lashings (the whipping kind) he should get with his own belt. "15!" they all shout. Already my non existent balls are clenching. The stripper struts about around him and begins to take off his clothes, while the MC belittles this poor man. Eventually she gets to his pants and removes the belt in one swift pull. The bachelors face looks nervous, but quickly turns into a face of fear as both the MC and stripper tell him to get on his knees and hold the pole. He reluctantly (although trying not to look so) gets down onto his knees for his whipping. The stripper and MC belittle him a little more and tell him to stick out his backside. THWACK! The stripper whips this poor groom-to-be's bum. The friends cheer, the audience laughs and I gawk and sweat at the thought of having this done to me. Utter pain. The whippings continued until about 10 or so and then the violation was over. Or was it?

After his lashings, he is forced to sit on his bum and down a glass of red and white spirits, which I was later told was a mix of white rum, red zappa, vodka and white tequila. Well! If a whipping doesn't kill you, this sure will!

I met my very first Ukrainian there too. Not only did she have lovely breasts and could dance her socks (and zip down dress off) but who survived the Chernobyl disaster. It was all very exciting! Although, I felt very awkward after asking her how she got here...

Shortly after the show, it was home time. Our tummies were full, eyes were tired from feasting them on all the stripping and whipping and I'd had my fair share of brandy and cokes. But in truth, we mostly left because they started playing "Bands that Make her Dance" and I simply loathe that song with all my being...