… and I am applying that to everyone’s wife until I narrow down my suspects. At Vegas’ famous gentleman’s club Cheetahs (I reviewed it here. Check out the site if you plan to bring your scumbaggery to our quaint little sin-town) this weekend, a previously unrecognized phenomenon insinuated itself rather violently into our evening. Apparently, there is a stigma to enjoying the naked women with your preferred naked woman. We sat with our drinks, making regular visits to the tip rail, for about two hours, and were not patronize once with flirtatious advances. We were mystified, until the lovely body shot girl offered us an explanation: it was because we were a couple.

The heck you say! Any astute, regular reader of my columns knows I have gone so far as to advocate bringing your girlfriend or wife to your favorite titty bar (with her permission of course). In all of my previous experience, having a woman with you provided several benefits. You are more likely to have a scantily clad woman paying attention to you, for longer periods of time, when it is clear a civilian woman is willing to spend time with you. That right there puts you at least a notch above most of the creepy gawkers that frequent these establishments like they work there. Also, strippers are excited to see girls there in any case… or so I thought.

I may have to amend what I thought was universal advice. There actually is a time when you should not bring your woman to a strip club: when she is a bitch. The shot girl carefully explained to us that the dancers are trained (either formally or through experience) to avoid couples, because often the female member of the couple (“more often a wife than a girlfriend”) often will get jealous and make a scene. If your brain just felt like it was being shaken like a maraca by Michael J. Fox on Taco Wednesday, don’t panic, you are not alone.

This little bit of information implies that men are consciously bringing their wives to strip clubs knowing full well their mates’ proclivity for jealousy. It further implies that these women went along on the trip, either not knowing what actually goes on at a strip club, or knowing that land mines lurked around every corner that night. The poor bastard was castrated before he could even develop an erection. Guys, what the hell? Is your wife so overbearing that you thought you would bring her to a public forum and ruin it for the rest of us?

Clearly, if your lady disapproves of the clubs, you shouldn’t be going either, and you’ll have to work out her prudishness amongst yourselves. I know the feeling: you want to bring her along, to show her the magic and experience it with her. However, you have to know where she stands, and if she’s a bitch, don’t bring her. You’re killing me, guys.

(It should be noted that, when management was informed of this grave injustice, they swooped in and showed us a great time. Cheetahs is still one of the most fun places in Vegas, and I wouldn’t want the one bad night to give them a bad name.)