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Some folks asked for it; others don't care. But since I teased it in my last iRANT, I guess I should tell you my "Better Man" stripper story.

My 18th birthday was not something I was really looking forward to (the fear of being tried as an adult is enough end any pubescent career of crime). There were no big time benefits for me. By the age of 16 I was already buying porn, booze, and cigarettes thanks to liqueur store owner we all affectionately called Habib. Not that I needed the booze or cigarettes--those were always purchases for friends (however, I shall refuse comment on the porn issue).

The biggest lifestyle change was finally being able to see strippers. Sure, I had seen my share of boobs prior to turning 18 (thanks to slutty high school girls and foreign sun bathers). But long before my first nipple, I had always been fascinated by nudy bars. Maybe I watched a little too much "Married...with Children." Or maybe it's because I had to bike past a topless joint every time I visited one of my buddies. Or maybe it was just a teenage hormone thing. I don't know the true cause because I'm not a shrink. What I can tell you is that I was fascinated with the idea of women who took off their clothes for money.

My friends and I all turned 18 around the same time and it was a no-brainer what we all wanted to do once we came of age. Some of our older coworkers caught wind of what we were up to and wanted to join us--after all, what male could resist the lure of a naked woman? Besides George Michael.

We picked a date and decided to all go after work--there must've been a dozen of us. Yep, the folks at the McDonald's headquarters would have been pissed if they knew what we were up to. The plan was for everyone to meet at the store two hours before closing. Those who weren't working pitched in so we could get done early to see the naked women. The teamwork alone was an act of magic. It normally took 90 minutes to close the restaurant. That night, we were out the door five minutes after close (although I wouldn't necessarily vouch for the cleanliness of some items...such as anything that touches food).

Some of the guys had girlfriends...which just made the whole event even more epic. There were about four or five hens in the parking lot, all waiting by our cars. I don't know who tipped them off, but the gals knew what we were up to and (needless to say) were "highly disapproved." I gotta give my boys props--every one of them stood up to his lady and said "no." You don't see guys over the age of 25 with those kinda stones. Maybe when you're younger you just have more fight to you. Or maybe it was just a peer pressure thing. If any one of those guys backed out they woulda been branded a wuss for the rest of their McDonald's career.

Getting into the car was just half the battle for one of the guys--Poncho's girlfriend was especially upset. She kept calling the store all night long, trying to convince him not go. She threatened him--offered to tell his parents. She even put her hands on her hips. It wasn't enough to sway Poncho--that's sorta what makes him a legend today.

While we were on our six-car journey to the adult entertainment establishment, Poncho's girlfriend followed us. She even went as far as screaming at him when we came to stoplights. Alas, Poncho did give in--which earned him a nomination in the Man's Hall of Fame (what he did later not only got him elected, but it also earned him the title of president).

See, Poncho wasn't going to let a little thing like his girlfriend ruin what was supposed to be a perfect guy's night out. Since she already left a bad taste in his mouth, he did what any guy in his situation would do: he drowned his sorrows with strippers. Not just one stripper or two strippers--no, no. Poncho got himself $1800 worth of strippers that night. He was like a kid in a candy store only instead of having candy, he had strippers. I haven't seen Poncho in about ten years, but I'm fairly certain that night still remains one of the best of his life.

What does any of this hafta do with "Better Man"? As soon as I walked through those doors, I noticed the naked girl on the stage. She was dancing to "Better Man."

The ex-girlfriend always thought "Better Man" was a song that represented our love. Me? I thought it represented girls who took offer their clothes for dollar bills.

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2006