While I’m talking about N+1, this critical analysis of lap dances and strip clubs they published is one of my favorite articles of all time. And I read a lot of articles. It’s well-written, blisteringly intelligent, and almost annoyingly perceptive.
What is being sold in the showroom of Sapphire is not a car but … what exactly? Sexual arousal? That can be had for far less with a few clicks of the remote back at the hotel. What your $20 gets you is, yes, the closer approximation of sex, the physical presence of the woman, but also, perhaps more crucially, her undivided attention. The lap dance occupies a middle ground between pornography and prostitution, and its affinity with the second lies in the fact that a kind of relationship is created, however brief and pathetic. When one of my friends was in the midst of a dance, a few feet from me, I sometimes felt I should turn away, that watching had become an indecent intrusion.
I’ve been remiss not linking to it before — an oversight now corrected. If you’ve got a moment, read the piece — it’s masterful.
