This could easily be included in a guidebook on “How Not to Impress Your Indian Parents.”
As an Indian immigrant in the US, I was aware that strip clubs were prohibited in India, and my father had never been to one. Realizing this was a “Now or Never” opportunity, I made the decision to take him to a strip club during his first visit to the US. One evening, I mustered up the courage to approach my father as he was enjoying his first glass of scotch.
“Dad, I want to take you to a place which you’ve probably only seen in English movies,” I said hesitantly.
“What is it?” he asked, intrigued.
“A strip club. I want to take you because you may never get a chance to experience it in India. Just for the experience, nothing more! And don’t worry; it’s not as vulgar as you think. If you don’t like it, we will leave immediately!” I lied to convince him.
After some thought, he agreed, and I was thrilled. However, there was a small problem. I needed his passport just in case they needed to see his ID, but the passport was with my mom.
“Mom, can you give me dad’s passport, please?” I asked her in the kitchen while she was preparing dinner.
“Why do you need it?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’m just taking dad to a liquor bar for a drink, and they may ask for his ID,” I replied.
“Your dad looks old enough to drink! You don’t need a passport for that!” she said confidently.
I couldn’t argue with her logic, but I still wanted to play it safe so I continued.
“Mom, I know, but just in case. I don’t want to come all the way back to get his ID in case they ask for it,” I explained.
“Okay. I will give you the passport, but first you must tell me the truth! Where are you really taking him?” my mom asked looking right through my lies.
I had no other way except to came clean so I told her the truth.
“Mom, you see, he probably may not get this chance again, so please make an exception tonight and let him go to a strip club… please?” I pleaded, grinning.
To my surprise, she was amused and gave us permission, but only on the condition that it was the first and last time to which I happily agreed.
Without wasting any more time, we headed to the strip club. When we reached the bar, I paid the entry fee for both of us and got in. As soon as we entered the pole dance area, my dad was stunned by the sight of naked women dancing, stripping, and doing erotic maneuvers around the pole. He froze for a few seconds, and when he regained his senses, he turned towards me and said, “Let’s leave.”
“What? Why dad? We just came in and I paid 40$ for the entry fee! At least have a lap dance before we leave?” I pleaded in disappointment.
“I can’t. My blood pressure is rising!” he said, placing his hand on his chest.
It was clear he meant it, so we quickly left and made our way back home. I recounted the incident to my mom, who burst out laughing. This
