We first hit the spa. I was massaged by a six-foot fiver who liked to talk more than massage, but I’m sure asking an onslaught of questions about his childhood, his past relationships and his plans for early retirement, prompted a flood of verbiage.
Later, we threw back glasses of some bubbly, I put on some mascara and slick faux leather leggings and off we all went to a cool dinner spot for some amazing food at Lee’s on King Street West. http://www.susur.com/lee/

But the highlight, other than entertaining the curious male servers who were forced to listen to our incessant giggling about our girlish fantasies, was our adventure at Remingtons-Men of Steel http://www.remingtons.com/ a most-of-the-time gay male strip bar that is open to us women after 9 p.m.

Never thought I ‘d really like to watch almost-naked guys on stage wearing only DIESEL underwear, but I did! http://www.diesel.com/underwear They looked surprisingly innocent, as they nonchalantly walked on stage, took off their shoes, remembering to neatly tuck in their white socks back into their runners. Impressive!

The music got louder when this tattooed smooth-chested beast of a man dropped his pants, and teased us gals with a dance that was a culmination of discarded dance moves from Saturday Night Fever and Dirty Dancing but it was entertaining.

I loved it when he spun himself around, and up and down the dance pole, and then without warning broke into an especially sexy dance reserved for the young ladies sitting on the side of the stage. They were the lucky ones I thought- as they coyly placed a few dollars into the stripper man’s briefs and sweetly tapped his belly. “Why couldn’t I do that?” I thought I was braver than these girls.

But whenever a dancer tried to make eye contact with me and my friend shouted,

“ He’s coming for you”, I immediately broke into a sweat and gazed down at my black boots bouncing under the table.

The strangest thing was that these well-built guys with hairless legs and other body parts, wore Diesel briefs, in an assortment of red, neon green and army camouflage patterns. “Maybe they went to an outlet mall in Buffalo and got a really good deal on Diesel?” I thought or “Maybe they got a Diesel sponsor to cover them up- just like David Beckham and Calvin Klein?”

I loved their underwear so much that I really didn’t want them to take it off- that is after I saw what was underneath. “Nothing to write home about,” my mother would say.