If you're planning on one day visiting scenic Tampa, Florida and replicating the Magic Mike experience at a local establishment staffed by dancing dudes who take their pants off, I've got some bad news. There is no all-male revue in Tampa. Magic Mike was a bulging lie.
I know this because I tried to live it. I've never been to a strip club, but the prospect of visiting Channing Tatum's old stomping grounds during the world's largest gathering of crotch-obsessed moral ideologues and not taking the time to appreciate the gyrating pelvic region would have been a travesty. But last night, the search for an all-male revue ended in frustration. According to Google and corroborated by locals, the nearest banana hammock showcase is an hour's drive away.
Magic Mike Night during the RNC would have been funny, but not two-hour-round-trip funny. Tampa is thwarting me at every turn.