Back in April, we gave OU student Steven Zoeller a hard time for the overly romantic and descriptive feature article he wrote about Suger's strip club on Campus Corner. It was pretty obvious he had never been to a strip club and/or seen barely concealed hindquarters before:
Tucked in the alley between Sage’s Wellness Lounge and Fuzzy’s Taco Shop is a portal to another dimension.
Beyond its threshold, framed pictures of female anatomy adorn the walls of a lounge lit dimly by colorful bulbs. A woman in lingerie has the stage, her barely-concealed hindquarters aimed squarely at the audience as she dances. Over the noise of billiard balls colliding and beer glasses clinking, the men cheer and applaud.
The bar sits across the room from the stage, managed by a small woman in her mid-50s smoking a cigarette. Most wouldn’t even expect to see this severe-looking woman working here, and she doesn’t just do that — she also owns the place.
Karen Summers is a subversion, a wrinkle in the image most people have of strip clubs. The more she and the dancers talk about the story of Suger’s, the more wrinkled that image becomes.