Let me start off by saying we were in a very “ratchet” state of mind when we visited New Orleans. But after 5 years of personal growth, we have blossomed into “sophisti-ratchet” women. We have since retired from being active patrons of strip clubs. However, if we hear Rapper Juvenile’s voice from a mile away saying “Cash Money Records taking over for the '99 & the 2000”, best believe we are running to the dance floor like it’s the opening of Walmart on Black Friday.
If you are unfamiliar with the word “sophisti-ratchet”, the world-renowned Urban Dictionary defines it as: “a person of highly educated pedigree (academically, socially & otherwise). Fluent in various forms of public etiquette yet is equally knowledgeable of the latest trap music , updated on most prime-time ratchet cable programs , conversant in the tongue of ratchet , & very skilled in the art of ‘twerking’.”
So this is how it all went down. We went Down South to meet with our best-friend Lizbeth. She was stationed in South Carolina.
We met in New Orleans and began the festivities. After a number of hand-grenade and Hurricane drinks on Bourbon Street, we ended up in an empty strip club. With only one stripper in sight, we were extremely confused.
We all looked around and asked security where were the girls who gave lap dances.
A stripper lady came out and was super friendly. We paid a lap dance for our friend Lizbeth. We asked for the price of the dance and the “friendly” lady said “$40 for 30 minutes sweetie”. We complained because in New York, lap dances are much cheaper. But we said “oh well, let’s just go for it”. The stripper took our friend Lizbeth to the back room to do a private lap dance.
Literally, a total of FIVE MINUTES passed and our friend was back from her “30 minute dance”. We went to complain to their customer service desk, which was the club’s manager. He was a short man, with a deep southern accent and a fedora hat. The man insisted we had to pay the $40 and we began arguing with the short man and the stripper.
I (Jay) had a few drinks in me and my New York patience (which is zero) was running out. I grabbed the first thing I could find, which happened to be a really big ashtray made of glass. I threw it at the short man and it hit his fedora (which went flying off). It landed and broke on a mirror behind the cashier and I jetted back to the couch where our bags were.
Next thing you know, the short man grabs me from behind and pushes me. Suly came to my rescue and pushed him back. She got in MOMMA BEAR mode.
Here we both were, about to slap box with New Orleans shortest strip club manager and our poor friend Lizbeth who didn’t get a full 30 minutes worth of booty clapping.
The Cops were called.
And someone might have called the stripper “a fake Naomi Campbell” (*cough* it was me *cough*).
Cops came to the scene and we were taken out of the club. Thankfully the fight sobered us up and we explained to the police officer of the irrational price points the establishment carried.
The officer was in disbelief and literally said “Uh...just don’t go back in there. You’re free to go.”
The three of us locked arms and skipped into the next bar we could find to drink some more.
I would like to point out that since then we have returned to visit New Orleans again. It’s such a magical place and full of life! Definitely go visit if you haven’t already.
There is an incredible energy in that city. The spirit of the people, the food and the history make you fall in love with New Orleans.
Here are a few places we fell in love with:
Cafe Du Monde - Open 24 Hours
Razzoo Bar & Patio on Bourbon Street
Louis Armstrong Park
New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum - $7 General Admission and Discounts for Students
The Presbytère - includes a beautiful and moving exhibit of Hurricane Katrina and History of Mardi Gras
The French Market
We hope you enjoy your time there!