My strip club experience

Last night Michael Tipton took me to a strip club. Well, that is not totally true; I will rephrase. Last night Michael Tipton took me to three strip clubs. Now before you shut down my blog and remove it from your “favorites” list, let me give you a bit of an explanation.

Last semester a Prof. from Wesley College started standing in front of a strip club in Jackson, Mississippi. She would tell the men walking in that she was praying for them. She would walk around the parking lot and pray. One of the managers asked her to leave … she didn’t. The next week she brought some students. Throughout the next few weeks each Thursday, they were there … and reactions were mixed to say the least. One student has been punched in the face, a dog was released on a few students, the head professor was kicked, and many threats of “bad things” that were/are going to happen.

So Last night at 10:00 PM The Right Rev. Tipton and I took a trip to downtown Jackson, across the bridge of no return (cause the railroad tracks are so jacked up the almost blow your tire out… but that’s a story for another day). We then parked in a used car lot, and met with about 14 other students who were there for the same task. We split up and went to three different “adult clubs”. Tipton and I walked across the street to the closest one, and immediately a man in an orange shirt came out the door and started walking right towards us. “Looks like some new faces today,” he exclaimed, “you guys bringing in recruits?” Everyone laughed as he, Terry*, walked around and shook hands with the students. Each asked him how his family was, what was going on in his life, and other various questions. I found that this particular guy had asked the group to pray for his family a few weeks back. He then brought his truck around and said, “Hey I got my MercyMe CD back, I’ll play it for ya while you pray.” With that, he turned on the music and walked back into the club, letting me know it was nice to meet me before he disappeared back into the smoke filled building.

Michael and I then walked down to the next club. We were greeted by a student who explained to us the situation. While the previous clubs head manager (the dog releasing guy) was pretty mean, this clubs bouncer was really nice. Apparently, on one exceptionally cold and rainy night, Ray* came out to the students and said, “I am standing out here cause I’m gonna make $500, but you guys are out here cause you believe in something … I admire that.” I was able to talk with Ray* a little bit, and hear his story. He’s been bouncing for 20 years. He has two children, both under ten years of age, and he is only addicted to cigarettes now. He cautioned me to “watch out for drunk drivers,” and to “stand on the curb if they get too close.”

After that discussion, we walked to another establishment. This particular one was where one of the students had been punched a few weeks ago. I enquired about that particular story and he explained. He had been talking to a potential customer, and the manager Ted* took exception to it. Soooo…..what was Ted* to do other than punch a student. The action was much less hopping at this place, but just as I was leaving, a dancer came out. One of the guys asked her if she needed help loading stuff into her car, and she smiled and said no she could handle it herself. It was here that my heart started breaking. These girls, this situation, everything going on took a face, was given flesh, just walked outside. One of the female students told me they had brought the other manager a Christmas gift before they had left for Christmas, and said it seemed like he was warming up to them.

As Michael and I returned to the club we started at the students were in a fairly heated discussion with a man that had just left the club. At one point he said something about his sister being a lesbian, at that moment Terry* said something I will never forget “So is mine, and I’m glad. I see what guys are like here every night, and they are jerks. They’re bad news.” What a statement. This man would rather his sister be with a girl because he saw how poorly men acted at this club. Terry* then told the group that the girls had forgotten they were coming, however next week were going to bring out coffee and donuts to the group. As Terry* and I discussed his random piercing, his affinity for pain and suspension, and his statements “when I die I’ll become dust, but these piercings will still be there…. That’s all I’m leaving this world” and “I like pain… it helps me remember that I’m still alive …. Here in ‘paradise’.”

I left a different person. My mind has not stopped working since I came back. How do people like Terry* and Ray* hear the gospel. What does it take to have them think about their lives? What does it take to get them to contemplate a better life? Apparently, it takes a group of brave students and Christians walking around the outside the parking lot ... praying.