Just what I need, a beautiful woman shedding her clothes in front of me, exposing every inch of her skin, smiling at me like she really wants it. Then, suddenly, the lights come up. The announcer exclaims, “Let’s hear it for Cinnamon!” The horny men cheer. The woman gathers up her cash and scurries of the stage in her dangerously-high heels, leaving me sitting there with a pounding heart, an empty wallet, and an excruciating pain in my jeans. Sounds like fun. But I’ll pass. The Striptease sucks.
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