Hello and welcome to the CRS podcast. In this episode, we dive into one of the most cringe-worthy
and unexpected stories you'll ever hear. Our guest recounts the time he celebrated his 18th
birthday with his mates at a sketchy strip club ready for a night of laughs and adulting.
What started as a hilarious, carefree evening took a jaw-dropping turn when the next dancer
under the spotlight turned out to be his mom. Alright, buckle up because this story still
haunts me to this day. It's been years since it happened, and my mates still bring it up
whenever they want to roast me. At this point, I can laugh about it, kind of, so I turn 18,
and like every other freshly legal idiot, my friends and I wanted to celebrate by doing something
adult. After brainstorming a bunch of ideas and rejecting anything too boring, like just go to
the pub, someone suggested we hit up a strip club. The ideas seemed ridiculous at first,
but the more we joked about it, the more it made sense. We were all hyped about crossing that
weird threshold into adulthood, so we thought, why not go all in? We chose this sketchy little
strip club a few towns over because we figured there'd be less chance of running into anyone we
know. A buddy of mine said it was cheap but decent, which in hindsight should have been a red flag.
But I didn't care. I was 18 with some cash in my pocket, and my only goal was to have a laugh with
my mates and maybe get my first lap dance. We're all up to the place, and it's exactly as dodgy
as you'd imagine. Neon signs flickering, bouncers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else,
and a clientele that was a mix of drunk college kids and middle-aged dudes who'd clearly been
there too long. Perfect. The night started out pretty fun. We grabbed a table near the stage,
ordered overpriced beers, and cheered like idiots for every dancer who came out. Honestly,
it felt more like a comedy show than anything sexy. My mates were cracking jokes and egging
each other on to go up to the stage and throw singles. For a while it was all good vibes.
Then it happened. The DJ gets on the mic and announces the next dancer. Alright gentlemen,
get ready for the one and only candy. The light's dim, the music changes, and out walks the next
dancer. I'm sitting there casually sipping my beer when I glance up at the stage and almost choke.
There under the spotlight was my mom, my actual mom, in a sparkly bikini strutting across the stage
like she owned a place. Froze, my brain completely shut down. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
At first I thought no way. That can't be her. But the more I stared, the more I realized that no
was 100% my mom. Same face, same haircut, same freaking tattoo on her ankle. My mates, of course,
hadn't caught on yet. They were busy whooping and hollering like the idiots they were. One of them
even yelled, oh damn, she's hot. Wanted to die. As she started dancing, I ducked down in my seat
and tried to make myself invisible. I was praying she wouldn't see me, but the universe wasn't on
my side. About halfway through her routine, our eyes met. Her face went pale. I think she was
just as horrified as I was, if not more. She stumbled a bit, like she was deciding whether to run off
stage or finish the dance. I don't even remember what she did, because I was too busy trying to
figure out how to leave without anyone noticing. But of course, my mates noticed. One of them leaned
over and said, dude, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? I didn't know what to say. So I
just mumbled something about feeling sick. Then another mate, let's call him Tom, starts squinting
at the stage. Wait a second, he says. She looks kind of familiar. Before I could stop him, Tom's
eyes go wide and he shouts, holy shit, that's your mom. The whole table erupted and laughed her.
I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. My other friends started losing it,
shouting, no way. And is he serious? Meanwhile, I was sitting there completely dead inside,
wishing I'd never been born. Don't remember much of what happened after that. I think I mumbled
something about needing air and bolted out of there. My mates followed me outside, still laughing
their asses off, while I stood there trying to process what the hell had just happened.
Eventually, my mom came out through the back entrance. She didn't say anything at first,
just gave me this look like she was waiting for me to explode. But I didn't. I think I was too shocked
to even be mad. We had the most awkward conversation of my life right there in the alley behind a strip
club. She explained that she'd been dancing there for a few months to make extra money after the
divorce. She swore up and down that she didn't plan on doing it forever and that she'd been
trying to keep it a secret from everyone, especially me. Didn't yell or freak out. I just said,
I wish I didn't know. Then I turned around and walked back to the car. My mates, thankfully,
gave me a bit of space after that. The ride home was dead silent. No one dared to crack a joke
because I think they could tell I was on the verge of losing it. When I got home, I just went to my
room and stared at the ceiling for hours, trying to erase the memory from my brain. Spoiler,
it didn't work. To this day, my mates love to bring it up whenever they can. If we're out drinking,
someone will inevitably say, hey, remember when we went to the strip club and saw your mom? It's
their favorite story to tell at parties. And every time I just sit there facing my hands,
praying for it to end. Moral of the story, don't go to sketchy strip clubs to celebrate your birthday.
Or maybe just be prepared for the worst because life is a way of blindsiding you when you least
expect it.