This Couple Decided to Visit a Strip Club Together and It Changed Their Relationship

A
few weeks ago, Diana—not my girlfriend's real name—mentioned that a friend had just quit a high-profile gig at a high-profile restaurant to embark on a new career.

"She's dancing at Saint Venus Theater now," Diana informed me.

"Oh, nice," I said. "Is that on- or off-Broadway?"
Diana narrowed her eyes in disbelief.
"You really don't know what Saint Venus Theater is?"

OK.

Fine.

I did.

According to its site, a marvel of late-90s web design that still links to a MySpace page, Saint Venus Theater "is an art, music, and performance inspired erotic venue." I have attended SVT just often enough to know that the only accurate piece of that statement is the word "erotic."

Saint Venus is where your iBanking buddy takes you to get touchy-feely lap dances from women who do not identify as strippers.
Even "venue" is misleading—SVT has no fixed address and occupies a constantly shifting roster of vacant Manhattan clubs and restaurants. The "art" is whatever happens to be hanging on the walls, the "music" is a worst-of selection from Top 40 hip-hop and R&B.
These events are members-only, and every Tuesday we lucky few wake up to an email that contains a secret password and the addresses for that week's three, sometimes four events. That password—plus $50, cash—gets you in the door.

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LIKE EGGPLANT, I CAN TOLERATE MONOGAMY WITH A DOSE OF SPICE AND EXOTIC ACCOUTERMENTS.

You'd be forgiven at first for mistaking the scene inside for a boozy hedge-fund mixer. In the darkness of the sprawling spaces, the women, often vastly outnumbered, can be difficult to spot among the sea of suits. But there they are, dressed in formfitting, easy-off cocktail attire, most looking like they belonged to a sorority as recently as last semester. There are no stripper poles in sight, and only a PG-13 amount of skin. The "SVT girls," as the member emails refer to them, sip drinks, check phones, and make small talk with guests. Most of them have—and are happy to discuss—other jobs and ambitions (not that there's anything wrong with lap-dancing for a living). I've met alleged med students, alleged classical violinists, alleged actress-slash-models and, once, an acquaintance of my little sister. After giving you a fake name and asking what you do for a living, the typical SVT girl will offer you a dance—$20 a song—take you by the hand, and lead you to a back section, hidden by curtains, where the action takes place.

Posted by Olukorede