Nights on the Circuit

Lap stance

Pressing the flesh for a Guinness World Record

Monday, August 25, 7:30 p.m.

Why no one else has tried to set a record for the most simultaneous lap dances is beyond me.

Dancing for the Guinness (Warning! Adult content not suitable for minors)

It’s beyond Scores Las Vegas as well, which is why tonight Scores has set the stage to videotape a Guinness World Records attempt to do just that. History will be made, and a record set, which will likely be broken in subsequent years as a perennial event. And doing my bit, I’ll be giving my boyfriend a lap dance.

At this official event of the 2008 Exotic Dancer Gentlemen’s Club Owners Expo and the AVN Media Network, Scores’ entertainers will be simultaneously deployed to, er … entertain as many guests as possible for the duration of one song. Going into a manager’s meeting just days before, the choice was between Mötley Crüe’s classic “Girls Girls Girls” and something more modern.

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“I am hoping for at least 500 dances,” said Scores’ Mark Wiley earlier in the week, “but if the turnout is anything like our last party, we will have 1,200 guests, which means guys will have to ask their wives/dates [one would hope they’re one and the same] to do a dance for them, because no club in the world can get that many entertainers.” But how they’ll try; Scores is flying in plane-loads of strippers for the night (oh!—to be a pilot!). Also, comedian/magician Nathan Burton and Wicked Pictures adult-film star Carmen Hart are officiating, so I’m expecting a pretty busty bust-up. “Yeah, it’s gonna be a little crazy … like a nightclub on a Friday or Saturday night.”

As instructed, we arrive at 7:30 p.m. to register—“Entertainer No. 36 reporting for duty.” Already the booty-shaking and moneymaking has begun in dark corners of the club and amid the rows of seating arranged for the festivities. Behind the scenes, emcees Burton and Hart brush up on their witty banter, trying to strike a healthy balance between her naughty and his nice. On camera, Burton is quick to mention that his is a family-friendly show, six afternoons a week at the Flamingo. No matter. By the end of the night, Hart’s top will be off, and his squeaky cleanness just the tiniest bit less squeaky.

“I’m getting kinda psyched!” chirps the disembodied voice of the DJ in that typical carnival-barker sort of way, the pulsating music pausing for one beat as he raves, “There’s gonna be some lap-dancing going on! Think I need another drink.” Taking his cue, I suck down a cocktail myself but find no courage at the bottom of the glass. “Prepare your mind and body. And soul,” he throws in for good measure. “It’s gonna be the biggest four minutes in lap-dance history!” Funny, I thought the whole reason for this exercise was that there was no lap-dance history.

The would-be lap-dancees file in, making donations to DefendingFreedom.net's four military charities, and take a seat among red, white and blue balloon bunches. Finally, at the stroke of 9 p.m., Burton and Hart take the stage, where a carved-ice podium slowly melts under the lights.

Without warning, Prince’s “Erotic City,” the chosen song, comes on, and 361 ladies both professional and amateur begin to go to town on 361 lucky men and women. And then there’s us two. I try to keep in mind the sage advice of Scores’ first entertainer of the year, Lisa, to make eye contact like crazy, whisper sweet nothings and watch where I put my knees. I instead lock an unnerving gaze with my poor target and proceed to rub up against him like a deer on a tree. My cat has more finesse with her scratching post. Seriously. And then, just like that, it’s over, and regular Scores commerce begins.

That is the closest I expect I will ever come to stripping. I inquire about payment for the service I’ve rendered. “Twenty is standard,” my patron points out. “And usually it includes the removal of one’s top, so really I should be getting a no-nudity discount.” Fat chance, and I’m still waiting on that $20.

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