Strip Clubs Exposed Paperback – November 14, 2009

The Marquis de Sade defined narrative prurience with his tomes, Justine and Juliette. Harold S. Smith's seminal book, I Want to Quit Winners was Avant-garde due to the author's confessional candor provided within the confines of an industry that has consistently prized keeping personal matters proverbially close to the vest, and Xavier Hollander's contemporarily risqué de facto playbook for madams, The Happy Hooker paved the way for "vice" industry-centered exposé. The libertine philosophy espoused (and enacted) by Herb Pastor in his couplet of paperbacks, Strip Joint Millionaire and Strip Clubs Exposed, is a tantalizing, titillating, and occasionally uncomfortably tawdry mingling of the alluded genre.Appropriately inspirational prologue quotes that capture the espirit de corps of Pastor's anecdotes might have been earnestly provided by Mae West's quip, "There are no good girls gone wrong - just bad girls found out" or her comedic contemporary and occasional co-star, W.C. Field's, ""I never saw anything funny that wasn't terrible. If it causes pain, it's funny; if it doesn't, it isn't."Actualization of shame exists neither in Herb's hedonistic without (too much) apology lifestyle nor in a riveting text relaying a fascinating professional and personal odyssey. A contrarian journey that has forged Herb Pastor into the scion of success that he remains today.As with other autobiographic of and traditional biographic endeavors about strip club owners such as the Mitchell Brothers, Alan Markowitz, Joe Redner and Michael J. Peter, Mr. Pastor and his ilk definitively debunk the Horatio Alger myth. Nothing Ragged Dick about these fiercely individualistic men whose satisfice could not be met with rising only to achieve simple class assimilation and rank recognition.These noted "Good Doctor" Hunter S. Thompson (a one-time night manager of the fabled O'Farrell Theater, an adult entertainment emporium he described thusly, "...the Carnegie Hall of Public sex in America.") styled Gonzo Entrepreneurs' bodies are comprised of the typical Hippocratic humors, but also seemingly harbor the incorporeal compounds of moxie and gumption in more or less equal proportions.The cited sensualists share characteristic commonalities with other status quo squelchers, both historic and contemporary, including but certainly not exclusive to: Ernest-Lucien Juin Armand, Benjamin Tucker, Samuel "Mark Twain" Clemens, Hugh M. Hefner, and, in the words of Paul Simon's "Late Great Johnny Ace" acting the clown at the Rock & Roll Circus, "(Mick's) own soul brother" and still maintaining verticality in spite of (or possibly because of) conventional medical wisdom: Keith "Pure Merck" Richards.The tales recalled about and by these purveyors of the flesh trade or prophets of the provision of female empowerment, depending on whom one asks, are partially resultant of these "pulled up by their bootstrap" figures membership in a cohort that apparently benefited from a lack of the contemporary youth generation's systematically endemic puerile delusion of expected Warholian fame and fortune that has ostensibly become de rigueur prospect amongst the post "Boomers", "X's" and "Y's".The "Generation Me" constructs examined by Dr. Jean M. Twenge, Ph.D. and supported Dr. Arnett's theory of a prolonged period of adolescence known as "emerging adulthood" to some degree explains why this lazy legion's internalized lack of tolerance for risk in pursuit of reward will not produce the same caliber cadre of culturally interruptive libertarians as have been the indispensable derivative of former times. In most simple terms, Herb Pastor's recollections reflect an individual, who, like many of his successful contemporaries, never considered self-entitlement or success save sacrifice to be an option as he reached for the brass ring/pole.Developmental era appropriate lesson must have at least been partially successfully vicariously learnt from (at least the Disney movie version) of Pinocchio, where, the realization is made literally and figurative graphic that if one stays too long in a "Candy Land," even the "good" boys and girls morph to Asses.Pastor's occasionally brutally candid recounts recurrently convey the trait of self-efficacy at a professional level. Yet, on a personal level, Pastor repeatedly confesses to too often axiomatically "dipping the pen in the company ink well," or rephrased in a bit more modern vernacular of the 80s coke trade, "getting high on his own supply"; thus, devolving into Species Equidae.Whether from owners and managers or entertainers/talent who tell the tales that maybe should not be told, a measure of longitudinal legitimacy is in place. That is, the longer the author was personally "in the business", the more authenticity attributed to the findings. Mr. Pastor's storied involvement over the long haul re-enforces the primary analysis validity of his first two literary forays.There are far more overt and clandestine sinners than there are saints in the urban environs of Las Vegas and New Orleans, the municipal hosts of Herb Pastor's former holdings of not only strip clubs but also casinos; a topic worthy of its own volume. After being "edutained" via the compelling vignettes that comprise Strip Joint Millionaire and Strip Clubs Exposed, the reader will find him or herself in a state of pleasant agitation; hoping for another digest relaying transferable lessons learned from either or both endeavors to complete a verité trilogy.Upon completion of Pastor's Wilde styled debut authorial efforts, the bibliophile and appreciator of the impish alike will benefit from viscerally comprehending why dens of iniquity do not feature means by which one may tell the passing of time such as clocks or windows. Rather, the environment is deliberately set perpetually in its best light, like the namesake character of The Picture of Dorian Gray; the arenas of righteous obliquity never reflecting moral wear.The encompassing object lesson to garner is that each owner, manager, front-line and back of the house employee, talent/entertainers/performers/ exotic dancers/ fully incorporated independent contractors/ non-salaried employees (i.e., strippers go by many names) and even the infrequent to habitual patron residing in all manner and manifestation of pleasure seeker's palaces, over time, contributes to and becomes a piece of the secret and progressively decrepit canvas upon which Herb Pastor's life has been portrayed.

This book was an alright read but I spent more on this book then I spend on most books and it was a little bit of a let down I was expecting a book I could not put down. The stories were interesting but It was missing something. My recommendation wait for a used cheap one. It's still a good read.

This is collection of about fifty short anecdotical stories about strippers loosely knitted together by a strip club daddy, so don't expect too much. This book essentially proves that if you know the strippers at one club, you know them at all clubs. It reinforces what should be obvious, but then totally dismisses the private prostitution side of the business. Besides acknowledging that strippers are more likely to exhibit bi-sexuality he says practically nothing about what goes on outside his clubs.While private prostitution may be more distinct in New Orleans and certainly Las Vegas because these places are for idiot tourists and heavily policed by vice squads, it certainly is much less so elsewhere, in particularly San Francisco and Detroit where it is not very private at all... and certainly occurs to significant extents everywhere in between. In other words, in terms of what goes on behind the public face of strip clubs, the author's titty bars in New Orleans and Las Vegas are not representative of the rest of the country any more than San Francisco and Detroit are.Otherwise this book is extremely lightweight reading and beyond "daddy issues" there is not much here at all in terms of the learning something meaningful about strippers, their customers and the psychological dynamics of their relationships. Likewise while the author seems to admit to having sexual relationships with some of his strippers who occasionally include prostitutes from Nevada brothels, he completely avoids any discussion of that subject or any bone fide sex acts beyond one of them allegedly giving 60 second blow-jobs for $50 a pop in the VIP room.This book is entirely about his "daddy" role and perspective on strippers. Indeed the most profound thing he seems to have say is that biggest difficulty he has in dealing with any individual stripper is determining whether she is running to him as "daddy" (due to the neglect or absence of a father figure) or running from him as "daddy" (due to the abuse of a father figure). This amounts to good cop / bad cop or positive / negative feedback. Clearly, every stripper or woman has "daddy issues" to some extent and they certainly will be complicated but expressible in this type of "to" (neglect) / "from" (abuse) framework.

I liked the book and it was entertaining. Easy to read and you felt you were in the strip clubs. Recommend it for easy reading.

Easy read and oddly captivating. A bit redundant and maybe it was the kindle download but the formatting, punctuation, etc. was off making it a bit hard to decipher at times. Nothing new or earth shattering here but worth a read.

Just finished a wonderful expose on strip clubs. As a visitor or several clubs in many countries, both in the USA abroad, Pastor hit a home run with this book. He paints a vivid picture of the ins and outs of the business, as well as the colorful personalities of the dancers, staff, and owners. The book brought back fond memories of my visits as well as exposing the hidden often gritty side of the business. I recommend this book.