Finally, in desperation, I called a listing for a male exotic dancer. "You've reached Harry's Hot Hips," or some similarly seductive message greeted me when the ringing stopped.
"Sure," he offered. "My girlfriend is an exotic dancer. (love that euphemism--exotic dancer for stripper!) He proceeded to inform me that the fee would be $100, and that she would provide her own accompaniment in the form of a boom-box type tape player. (Remember those? This was 25 years ago. CDs did not yet exist.) Now $100 back then was a major investment, but I figured Hubby was worth it!
At this point, I should have asked for references, or at least a demo tape or photo, but what did I know? I was just happy that I had at last found a stripper. Price comparison was out of the question...I hadn't "uncovered" any other options! So, I agreed to hire his girlfriend for $100 dollars and gave him the date, time and address.
My sister and her husband were to come, under the pretense that we were going out to dinner to celebrate Hubby's birthday. We often got together with Sis and her hubby, so that did not seem unusual. Meanwhile, as soon as we left the house, a group of four good friends of mine from the teaching staff were to come into the house, decorate, and set out the food and beverages, and let the other party guests in. There was a church nearly across the street from my house, and guests would park their cars there and walk the half block to my house, so Hubby would suspect nothing when we returned from dinner.
We had reservations for six thirty p.m. and the plan was that we would return to a darkened house at nine. Sis and I had trouble containing our giggles during dinner, anticipating the look on Hubby's face when he would be greeted with the word "Surprise!" and fifty of our
We rejoined the party, and shortly afterward, the "dancer" turned on her tape player and led my husband to a chair in the middle of the room, and proceeded with her "performance." I put those words in quotations, because this was when I realized a demo-tape would have been invaluable. Not only was she ugly, skinny, and boobie-challenged--she had no sense of rhythm and couldn't dance !
Of course, many of the male guests were sufficiently lubricated with alcohol to not notice these short-comings, but their spouses were delighted. (No competition here, was the general reaction, I'm sure!)
The exotic performer completed her attempts at "bumping and grinding" around Hubby and planted a birthday kiss on his cheek. I paid her and sent her on her way, and we collapsed in laughter shortly after! Hubby was a good sport and said, "It's the thought that counts!"
Note: A few years later, one of those friends decided to do something similar for her hubby's 40th. Times had changed. She had many dancers to pick from. The one she selected was gorgeous and had a body you only see in Playboy. She drove up in a limo, emerged wearing a full-length mink coat, and from what I hear was an amazingly talented acrobatic dancer! Sorry Hubby; maybe in your next life!