Don’t laugh, but at the ripe-old-age of 23, last evening out with some colleagues was my first trip to a strip club. Entertaining, but also annoying. Because the natural reaction to an hour or two watching limber, attractive, & well proportioned persons disrobe and gyrate is, well, to be favorably disposed to certain indoor sports. But being at a strip club means it’s pretty likely that a similarly inclined POTAG (Person of the Approprate Gender) is not around. So it’s rather like taking a tour of the Ben & Jerry’s plant, and then being informed that there’s no ice cream to be had on the premises. Still, I had to do it at least once, and it was a good night out anyway. In the future, though, nobody let me stay out past 12 on a Tuesday.