Naughty Paris

While Portuguese football fans were parading up and down the Champs-Élysées last week in celebration of their country’s World Cup win against Angola, Heather, Carolyn and a number of naughty ladies were congregated in the comfortably air conditioned confines of Pink Paradise, not far from the famed boulevard.

Normally a gentlemen’s club, Pink Paradise opens its doors every now and then to those gals who’ve always wanted to strap on a pair of stilettos and learn how to twirl seductively around a pole. They call it Girls & the City. This evening, two of the establishment’s sexy stripteaseuses were on call to provide crash courses on stage to the most enthusiastic of volunteers – all of whom quickly learned that pole dancing ain’t as easy as it looks! (Luckily, they didn’t try to teach participants the ol’ climb-up-the-pole-and-then-coquettishly-somersault-down-it move…we surmise that les professionelles have glue slathered on their legs to accomplish that one!)

While the announcer was a little, as the French would say, chiant (we think he would have probably preferred to be in a brasserie with the rest of the soccer fans), the crowd was supportive, albeit a little tranquille – perhaps they were suffering from a bit of heat stroke…il fait chaud à Paris !! And, though the dancers were inviting, we weren’t really in agreement with the fact that once the volunteers learned a few steps, the audience was called upon to judge their skills…a little bit too much pressure, we thought, for good girls that are trying to learn a few naughty moves!

But even the shyest nouvelles danseuses took all of this in stride, and who could remain timid for too long once the brigade of finely chiseled male dancers -- Les Glamour Boys -- took to the stage? There’s nothing like a seaman with Velcro tear-off pants and a finely structured derrière to make a girl smile. HELLOOOOOO, SAILOR!!! And, just like the Frenchmen on the streets of Paris, male strippers here in France are a lot more, er…forward with the ladies they pull up on stage. Guys, if you were wondering why your girlfriends were so affectionate when they got home, we could tell you why. (But we won’t!!!)

After the skin-filled spectacle concluded, Heather and I had the opportunity of speaking with our favorite dancer, Andy, a.k.a. Tarzan. (Hey, we thought he had beautiful…uh…eyes.) Having spent three months as a professional dancer in Los Angeles, our dazzling homme sauvage shared his observations on the differences between the stripper scenes here in France and on the other side of the Big Pond. Les americaines, it seems, are a little freer with their wallets: they will watch the show and then pony up for a more intimate lap dance. Les françaises, he concluded, are a little more conservative about spending the extra cash.

But perhaps it’s not a matter of French girls being cheap. Les stripteases à la americaine (and it’s this that Pink Paradise is apparently striving to achieve) are, well, an American phenomenon. It’s possible that French girls just haven’t gotten a hang of the protocol.

Not that this was helped by the club’s minimal advertising for the event. The evening, which runs 35 euros per person, includes an open bar, free manicures and hair styling (but you got to get there good and early), and the show – not a bad deal considering what a normal Parisian night on the town costs. We hope that in the future, the club will make more of an effort in publicizing their ladies’ nights. What better way is there for birthday girls and bachlorettes to celebrate than drooling over some fine French flesh?

Besides, we want those boys to prosper. As Tarzan would agree, it’s a jungle out there, and one’s gotta eat to keep up a bod like that.