A high school reunion ... in a strip club

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A strip club is hardly the place you expect to see familiar faces from your childhood. Then again, you never know what you’re going to see at $2 Tuesdays at Club Onyx. $2 entry before midnight, $2 drink specials and even $2 dances for a portion of the night — the fun is kind of just built in.

This night in particular, the crowd was livelier than usual with friends coming out to support Onyx staples, Kyphi and Bree, for their birthdays. Kyphi, who’s not a dancer, does an annual show to celebrate her big day, and it was a madhouse in anticipation.

Killing time until the main event, I felt like I was at a Young Jeezy listening party. Literally all of his material got played. Better yet, it felt like I was in the backseat of a Chevy on Beatties Ford Road. Booming bass, indecipherable words ... yep, it felt like high school again — well, high school with exotic dancers.

The surrounding cast only enhanced that feeling. It was weird catching up with people I haven’t seen since middle school Language Arts class or high school graduation and trying to sum up the past six to 10 years of my life in a sentence. What common ground is there with someone who has three kids and all I can really talk about is college and journalism? Entertaining nonetheless.

In addition to the ass-bouncing, pole-climbing and reunion chatter, the most notable conversation I overheard was between two dudes explaining why a salty guy in the club lost his girl in the past. “She don’t wanna fuck with a crackhead; she wanna fuck with a crack dealer, ya feel me?” Classic.

Around 1:40 a.m., the main event was underway. The birthday girls headed to the stage in boxer’s robes as the other dancers and patrons pushed their way toward the stage. It took seconds for money to cascade down cartoonishly.

For Kyphi not to be a dancer, she could have fooled me. She had moves, and most importantly, “tools” to convince people otherwise. That was a real surprise. Bree took “Look ma, no hands” to a whole ’nother level, hanging from the ceiling with her knees as money continued to shower.

Headed out the door just in time to see someone get jacked up by security, I had a smile on my face and could only think, “Eat your heart out BET: Uncut.”

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