Writing that last post made think more about my erstwhile favorite stripper Lily again, whom I saw from late fall 2005 until spring 2006. I used to tip her while she was onstage by slipping singles into the ankle straps of her heels. She had extremely pretty size 6 feet. She had a gorgeous butt too. She was Japanese and in her late twenties. She knew I had a sexually submissive streak and she played into it, it was kind of a game between us. She told me her fantasy was to lead a guy around on a leash and maybe I would be the guy she would try it with. Promises, promises. Didn't happen except in the metaphorical sense...but sometimes the metaphorical can suffice. Or not.

She spoke pretty good English and was studying it at school as well. I'm a fan of some Japanese writers and I gave her an English translation of Tanizaki's Seven Japanese Tales. Unfortunately I had only read about two of the stories before I gave her a copy of the book. I didn't realize how fully wild it actually was. She took time off from the stripclub during Christmas 2005 and said she would read the book over her break. I read the book in its entirety myself during her absence, as it was a way to feel connected to her while she was gone. I didn't realize that the most famous story in the book, "The Tattooer," about the girl getting a tattoo of a spider on her back and becoming a femme fatale to her tattooer, was actually the MILDEST of the yarns. Junichiro Tanizaki, one of Japan's more revered writers, often depicted submissive, masochistic characters and obsessive love, and some of the tales got pretty damn bizarre. When I finally saw Lily again and asked her what she thought of the book, she said with a not-so-vague look of distaste that it was "weird." At least it seemed that she'd read it, though, or at least some of it...her distaste looked authentic. But I wonder if she thereby thought I was as weird as some of the Tanizakian characters...which I am not, although I admit to a definite quirkiness.

Lily used to tell me how much she enjoyed wearing a kimono sometimes. I never saw her in one, but just the mental image of it provided my mind with such a vivid contrast to her usual stripper wear (teeny, teeny g-strings) that it sometimes seemed as if I HAD seen her in traditional dress. I can imagine her in a kimono as I write these words, walking along in the white socks and high wooden sandals...for some reason, I can't remember the name of those shoes now, although I know it...

Oh well...my acquaintance with Lily was almost two years ago now. Hard to believe...

I looked in the mirror last night and saw a fifty-six year old man who is aging more rapidly because he is not spending time lately in the company of young women. It's like being between a rock and a hard place; I don't want to spend the money, and yet the money spent seems to have kept a spring in my step that has been missing lately. Well, it's a moot point, since dough is tight lately and I'm just spending my leisure time reading or watching movies.

I wish I could find a stripclub with all Japanese strippers, who come onstage in kimono. They invite men from the audience to come up and help them disrobe...

What a show that would be!