Cory Booker is the current mayor of Newark, New Jersey. In politics, I suppose that this would be considered the ultimate entry level position. Everything and anything that comes after Newark would be a huge upgrade. So, Mr. Booker is attempting to escape perhaps the most reviled, dysfunctional city in America by running for the United States Senate, and if I were him I would do the exact same thing.
Mr. Booker is also somewhat of a star in Democratic circles. He is handsome, smart, witty, and makes a good speech. He is also black, a bonus. This week he’s been out in Hollywood making the fundraising rounds, schmoozing the beautiful people. The usual suspects have been on his arm, the Barbara Streisands, Sean Penns of the world, making sure he’s for abortion on demand, and the legalization of marijuana. He has not disappointed, and has returned to Newark with 4 million in his campaign war chest, raised from people constantly railing against the evil influence of money in politics.
Upon his return, we discover in a story from the UK Telegram, that Cory is apparently quite fond of a Portland, Oregon stripper named Lynsie Lee, whose Twitter bio reads, “wits and tits #stripper #model #model #weirdo. The story reveals several flirtatious tweets between the two.
First of all, what it is with British newspapers always getting the story first? But that’s a story for another day. Since Mr. Booker is single, and has had to answer questions about gay rumors recently, this revelation will probably help him. While I might question his taste in women; Ms. Lee is the personification of the word skank, he is free to tweet with anyone he pleases. What caught my eye in the Telegram story was not that a young up and comer like Booker would be involved with a tattoo covered stripper, it was something else entirely. Further along in the story we discover that Ms. Lee worked at something called a “vegan strip club.”
Try as I might at 6:00 in the morning, I just can’t get my mind around the meaning of such a thing. A vegan strip club? My first image is of a juicy, plump ear of yellow corn freshly shucked, laid bare on the bar in front of a dozen salivating farmers. No, it can’t be that, in Nebraska maybe, but Portland Oregon? It must be something else. Then I imagine a room full of metrosexuals ogling Ms. Lee as she does her pole dance, while delicately dipping their broccoli heads into little bowls of soy sauce. Instead of a Confederate flag draped on the wall behind the bartender, there’s a portrait of Che Guevara, flanked on one side by a Rainbow Coalition flag and on the other by the baby blue banner of the United Nations.
A vegan strip club. Can a left-handed coffee shop be far behind? How about a diabetic bakery? A transgendered car wash?
I could go on like this for hours…