The one time I went to a strip club I actually had a pretty good time, but that's because we brought our socially awkward friend, Private R (for story's sake), with us. To fully picture this story you have to understand Private R's mannerisms; he is very herky jerky, think Napoleon Dynamite drinking his Gatorade.
We were in the Army and decided it was time for our friend, Private R, to see a pair of tits ( I truly don't know if he had before). We went to an ATM and pulled out $100 each (a group of 6), had the most of the $100 broken down into singles and $5 and headed out.
When we got there we made sure we had front row seats and started to pile our stacks of $1 and $5 bills in front of Private R to catch the attention of the dancer. Once he was noticed and she approached, his level of discomfort quickly rose. He started looking anywhere but at the girl and shooting us the "you're an asshole" look. She started talking to him and asking why he was uncomfortable as she undressed. This made him go into his shell even faster.
She finally gave up on trying to talk and I think she realized what we were doing, so she laid on her back and gave the "come here" gesture with her finger while her legs were spread. Since Private R had never been to a strip club before he didn't quite understand the no touching protocol. While seated, he started to lean his face right in between her legs. He was basically going in for the motorboat on her vag. My friends and I all shouted, "NOOO!!!" But this woman was quick. She grabbed him by his shirt as he leaned forward and pulled him on top of her.
I shit you not, he went full on Mission Impossible:
all while staring back at us, panicking, like what the hell do I do now. If only I had a camera to capture the look on his face. Ah, good times.