Desi Manifesto Blog: The Forum for South Asian American Men

[Blogger: S.I.] A very good friend of mine, “Sonny,” recently moved to Vegas. As a Jersey Indo with a strong liberal education, Sonny had just earned gainful employment as a young and well-paid professional. To celebrate, a friend took him on an all-expenses paid tour of one of the finer “gentlemen’s clubs” in Sin City. Of course, Sonny already frequented such establishments so much that he should have had a “Get your 10th dance free” card, but that’s neither here nor there.

At said venue, Sonny partook of many a stripper bosom, and those bosoms partook of many a c-note. He even may have taken a tour of the back room. After several hours, he and his friend, a generous white chap, took a breather at the counter near the entrance.

Then, two performers, still in their civilian clothes (well, still in clothes, period) appeared at the front. One white, one ethnic. Both in possession of physiques so alluring, they could only be legal in this state. The white professional dancer began to work over Sonny’s white friend, teasing him with her assets and trying to hustle him for future dances, etc. The ethnic, meanwhile, approached Sonny, sat on his lap, and asked:

“Hey, are you Indian?”

“Ummm, yeah. Why?”

“Me too!”

“…….Sorry, I don’t believe you.”

“What, because I’m a stripper, I can’t be Indian?”

“Hmmm, yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I’m saying.”

Sonny was captain of his high school debate team for a reason.

Soon, he found himself comparing life notes with this rare gem, who went by a stage name that was as plain-Jane as “Rita.” Both were first born in the US. Both came from the burbs outside major cities. Both had successful professional parents (his were in business, hers medicine). So where did things take such a drastic turn? He graduated from a strong college, while she…deviated. Of course, her parents still believe she’s pursuing a degree, but she said she wasn’t doing well enough, so she dropped out. And her new occupation sort of fell into her lap. Lots of things falling into laps at these establishments. But she was saving up so she could go back to school. Because if I was making a few thousand a week dancing, I’d pay to go back to school so I could, if I’m lucky, land a job that pays a couple thousand a week.

Hours passed, yet these girls were not only still clothed, but Sonny and his boy still had their money. Either they wanted to get fired, or this was the closest thing to genuine conversation a strip club had experienced in quite some time. Sonny glanced at the other marks in the room, realizing that the jealous eyes were directed at him. How could someone like him be with girls like that? He would have thought about it more, but the girls had agreed to accompany the gents back for some recreational activities that may or may not have been legal in Nevada.

And multiple drinks and smokes later, Sonny and the other Indian professional found themselves alone and face-to-face. Sonny, not exactly inhibited, but not an aggressive playcaller to begin with, allowed her to make the first move. Which she eventually did with the axiom, “It’s true what they say, it takes Indian boys forever to make the first move.” Taking that as a subtle hint, he proceeded to make out with her, and she proceeded to not run away. I never knew there was even a large enough body of evidence about Indian boys and making the first move, but okay. Either way, Sonny was kissing a stripper. And just as they seemed destined for more…

She pulled back. She said she really wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn’t want him to think she was a slut. As bombed out of his mind as he was, Sonny miraculously kept himself from laughing. The assumption of sexual conservation went out the window with her see-through panties during her last show. But there was no way for Sonny to broach it now. “No, you’re not a slut. Now let’s get busy.” Or, “Yeah, we better stop, I totally would have called you a slut.” Blocked for the evening, they exchanged info, and she disappeared into the night, never to return his text messages.

Many topics to ponder…
- There’s an Indian stripper?? Maybe some of you knew this, but it came as a surprise to me. In fact, Rita said there were a few of them in town. Sort of a darker version of the “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” I’m sure those pants got some frequent flier miles.
- Maybe it’s just us, but we find it hard to see how an Indian girl coming from this background could even allow herself to ride the pole. Maybe we overestimate the nature of being raised Indo, or perhaps this is the next logical step in assimilation with the next generation. But this isn’t the UK in terms of Indos’ social positions, and usually, people from backgrounds that allow them other means in life do not pursue the pole like they have a magnet in their genitals. And maybe she didn’t “pursue” it exactly. But she is where she is now of her own accord, as her family is more than financially able to cover her debts.
- For those Indian men who say they want brown women to be more forthcoming, looser, less prude, and more like ‘regular’ girls… I may be alone, but I personally disagree. Put most men, and especially Indo men, in a “Pretty Woman” situation, and I bet they leave it on the table or in the bed. And there are plenty of Indian girls who are like ‘regular’ girls, and in my experience, they are not the girls you want to befriend anyway. Now, if you said you wanted brown girls to drop their pretentious behavior, as Rita seems to have done, along with her entire Victoria’s Secret ensemble, you’d garner plenty of votes.
- Has anyone actually seen an Indian stripper’s performance? Fill us in. Sonny didn’t actually see her show, but I think I’d feel uncomfortable seeing an Indo girl ogled by a bunch of non-Indo guys, especially culturally-clueless white guys who just like that she’s “exotic” and feel like colonizing. From yellow fever to curry fever.
- Are you an Indian stripper? Give us your thoughts. But only if they are free.