The next two concerns of any amateur strip club owner are sound and lighting. Sound was taken care of thanks to Jason's computer. We downloaded whatever songs we wanted to dance to, threw 'em in the "Stripper music" file and danced our asses off. Lighting was left up to other members of the group. When said and done, in the little shithole apartment that barely had room for one person, we had a working stripper pole on a nice-sized stage with good music and three spot lights, each on their own individually-controlled dimmer switch.
For several weeks, parties were had, real strip clubs visited, and pole tricks were learned. The girls in the group loved it because it made us feel sexy, we got to wear cool outfits, and it was really good exercise. The guys in the group loved it because... well, do I really have to explain that? But, alas, the villain of our tale was about to rear her ugly, nosy head.
