July 8, 2003
So there I was Friday night, at an all-male review, stunned at what I was witnessing.
But let’s back up a second, and I'll explain how I got there.
I spent the Fourth of July in Las Vegas with my friend, Garrett. A friend of his, Lori, was visiting from Phoenix, and she brought along her friend, Lacie. Well, Lori and Lacie -- being healthy, unmarried, straight females -- decided that, dammit, they were in Las Vegas, and they wanted to see naked men.
THAT is how I ended up spending part of my Independence Day at all all-male review, stunned at what I was witnessing.
And what I was witnessing was dozens upon dozens of crazed, horny and, at times, irrational women.
In terms of gender, our society generally views men as the aggressors -- or, put another way, as the pigs. Men start wars. They're open to peeing pretty much anywhere, and they spend about as much time thinking about sex as they do breathing. Women, meanwhile, we think of as more rational, reasonable sorts, not prone to wanton acts of inappropriate behavior.
I am here to tell you that what our society generally views is whacked.
These women at this Thunder From Down Under show at the Excalibur were insane -- grabbing, hooting, hollering and generally being horny, sex-crazed cretins. The following things actually happened:
-- One of the dancers who went into the crowd wearing nothing but a thong, a towel and a smile had to essentially play tug-of-war with a well-dressed woman, probably around 40, who grabbed onto the towel and refused to let go until he jerked it (the towel, that is) out of her hand.
-- The emcee was repeatedly interrupted by one woman who shouted, "Shut up and take off your clothes!"
-- At one point, two of the dancers snuck into the back of the room wearing hats, fake beards and trench coats for a skit. Several women took the opportunity to go over and grope these dancers, trench coat be damned.
-- Three women, all reportedly soon-to-be-brides enjoying their bachelorette parties, got up on stage and had an orgasm-faking contest. All of them did stunningly well -- with the winner humping the emcee during the faux orgasm in order to claim the championship.
Thankfully, Lori and Lacie were fairly well-behaved, and refrained from towel-snagging and shouting and groping and orgasm-faking. However, even these two lovely women were transformed into hooting, hollering, semi-crazed vixens at the sight of the oiled-up Australians.
From a purely sociological standpoint, the most amusing part of the show was the reactions of the men in the audience. There were a handful of us, all there for varied reasons, I am sure -- some were gay (men are welcome but not allowed to touch), some came with female friends and some even accompanied their spouses/girlfriends.
These men -- all of them -- seemed a bit alarmed.
One guy in particular stood out. He was there with who I am assuming was his wife. The couple was probably approaching the age of 60, and -- I mean this kindly -- they didn't look like the party-animaal type. As a matter of fact, if their names were Mr. and Mrs. Frump, it would have been perfectly apt.
Mrs. Frump was one of the calmer women there, but despite this fact, Mr. Frump was clearly uncomfortable. There almost seemed to be fright in his eyes. Based on the look on his face, I am sure that he had NEVER seen such a large group of women acting like THAT in his life. It seemed like his world view was altered, jarringly, forever.
My view was altered, too. I now know that women can be just as piggish as men can -- if not even more so.
Be afraid, men. Be very afraid.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan in exile in Arizona who thinks the word "bloke" is kind of cool. Jimmy's column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.