...when you see a man walking out of a strip club clutching his shoes. I mean, what just happened in there? And why did I have to witness his walk of shame or maybe walk of pride? Oh, I know why, my office--the manufacturing facility in which my office is located--is in the industrial part of town and our across the street neighbor is a strip club.
Actually, I pass 3 strip clubs on my way to work--and no I don't work in one. Occasionally I park on the street right in front of Cabaret Royale. It just happens that those are the same days I get a police escort to my car at night. Sometimes the security officers see me walking into work in the mornings and they escort me from my car into our facility. It's always interesting.