Every now and then life throws you one of those little surprises that makes getting up in the morning so worthwhile.  Our family traveled to Missouri to the Commissioner-in-laws to celebrate the Christmas holidays.  Our wedding anniversary is right before Christmas, and because we had the grandma and grandpa babysitting service, Mrs. Commissioner and I headed to Kansas City to have our anniversary dinner.  We met up with some dear friends in Kansas City, and had a delightful dinner and a wonderful time catching up.

We then had to make the 1 hour drive back to Sedalia, Missouri.  If you've ever had the pleasure of driving through Missouri, there isn't alot to see. The land is flat, and occassionally spotted with a nuclear missle silo here and there.  On our drive home, right outside of Warrensburg, Missouri there was an unmistakeable pink neon glow beakoning from the fruited plains.  To the untrained eye, this pink glow would be passed off as a gas station, but to the Beer Commissioner, this is a beacon of electric sex and wonderment.  As we approached, the neon signs glared GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS underneath a bigger sign that read FANTASY RANCH.  At this point  I heard the second best thing a guy can ever hope to hear from his wife, on his wedding anniversary.  Mrs. Commissioner said, "oh we have to stop at the strip club."  Yes people. My wife is THAT awesome.

As far as wonderment, and magic goes, Cinderalla's castle has nothing on this place.  We walk into the joint, and were immediately met by the door guy.  The door guy was a kind of a cross between Uncle Jesse from the Dukes of Hazzard and Ernest Hemingway.  Had he not been 5'2" you'd say he was from central casting to play Santa Claus on a pirate ship.  Right behind the door guy, was a glowing neon sign that simply stated, "Totally Nude Bed Dances".  Yes, there were little rooms, with beds, ostensibly for Totally Nude Dancing.

The door guy explained to us, the rules of the joint.  First, it was a juice bar.  No alcohol was served.  I don't know if I had visions of totally nude bed dances, dancing around in my head, or that I was still pumped my wife said, we HAD to stop at the strip club, but I never registered being upset that I couldn't have beer in a strip club.  All in all, not having beer, probably saved us $600 on the bar tab.  He then told us, there was a bar next door, and we could drink there, but not in the parking lot.  He also said, we got one complimentary drink, but all other drinks, we'd have to pay for, and those were the staggering price of....$2.  He then asked us if that would be "ok". 

Is it ok that I'm going to spend less than $10 on beverages at a strip club?  That's like asking me if I mind winning the powerball.  So, after he explains all this stuff to us, he then gives us the cherry on top, on our yet unfulfilled strip club experience.  He then tells us, if we were hungry, it was taco night, and he points us to the taco buffet, situated right outside the totally nude bed dance room.  Christmas had truly come early.

Mrs. Commissioner and I headed to the stage, took our complimentary coffee and diet coke, and enjoyed the festival of nudity on the stage in front of us.  After watching a parade of nakedness, Mrs. Commissioner then said to me, the best thing a woman can say to her husband on their wedding anniversary.  "Pick a girl, I'm going to buy you a totally nude bed dance."  Pinch me, but did I go to Sodom and marry Pandora?  Life can't be this good.  Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Commissioner, me, and T.J. (not of Baywatch fame, but she stole the name, nonetheless) headed off to the totally nude bed dance room, when the kind hand of fate peeled off four aces.  Right before we went into the room, the DJ announces, dances are now 2 for 1.  For 8 exquisite minutes the lovely TJ 'danced' for me on a surprisingly comfortable twin bed.

After the 'dancing' Mrs. Commissioner and I assumed our positions back at the stage, when the Garden of Delights offered up its final surprise of the evening.  Smack dab in the middle of this utopian paradise was a shower, enclosed fully in glass.  Seconds later, a lovely lady, and some little Air Force flyboy were in the shower.  He was wearing his skivvies, she was wearing her birthday suit.  The DJ appropriately played the You and Me Baby Aren't Nothing But Mammals song as the lovely vixen 'showered' with this young man.  Just like that the DJ announced it was 2:00 a.m., and they were closing.  We were kicked out of the strip club, and headed home, at least one of us a very happy camper.

I'm not saying the Fantasy Ranch is the greatest strip club on earth.  I'm not saying this was the best time I have ever had in a strip club.  But, I am saying,  if you ever find yourself on Hwy 60 in Western Missouri, and you see a neon pink light beaconing from the highway, I highly recommend the taco buffet.  Next time, I may even try the food.