Some believe strippers have the hots for them even as they pay for the attention SHE SAIDStrippers are either the greatest actresses on earth or men are remarkably easy to con.Male strippers have done their thing for me before, but I've never been able to get worked about them. I'm not sure if that's because they were all too "G-string and fake tan" gay for me, or so ridiculously good-looking there was no way I could believe he found me attractive enough to drop his jeans at my feet.Is it really a legitimate turn-on for women? I've seen Chippendale videos with women shrieking in rapture as they shove bills into already well-stuffed Y-fronts.As research for a book I'm working on, I've interviewed guys who visit strip clubs regularly. Some of them believe the dancers, even the hot ones, do legitimately dig them, despite being paid to be there. Others know it's a well-rehearsed act, but are able to get excited, regardless. Tight-bottom line is, while women generally need to be desired to get turned on, some men simply need to be in front of a vagina.There was once a male stripper who did the rounds in Cape Town. Most women of a certain age and moral elasticity will remember him. He was short and had long dark ''mullety" hair. Sure, he had a few abs, some moves and a tux held together by Velcro, but it was hard to watch, I felt too embarrassed for him to enjoy it.Ultimately, I reckon it's harder to be a male stripper than a female one. For a woman, great tits and ass will make you a killing. But for a guy, abs and a pair of socks shoved in your jocks will get you only so far. - Paige NickHE SAIDStrip clubs don't appeal to me. The idea of paying a woman to pretend to like you is uninviting. I think it must be a very frustrating experience, getting ground against and turned on and then having nothing to do about it. Torture almost. I have a friend who was once worked up into such a state of arousal that he had to relieve himself standing above a urinal. He was caught, but apparently the owner was understanding.I have been to a strip club only once. It was unpleasant. It was a dark lonely Monday at 2am. From watching movies I'd expected happy go-go dancers in thongs, not women who sat on a table naked and spread their legs and put their fingers inside themselves feet away from your face. It was hectic. The girl that danced for us looked about 21.She looked somewhere away into the distance when she touched herself and I wondered if she was trying to think of a happy time in the past or if she was pondering the pain of life and wondering at which point her life had led to this.I tried to be polite to her but if she appreciated it, she didn't show it, and when somebody paid for her to give me a lap dance, rather than arousal I just felt a deep sadness. And when a Russian stripper came to talk to me I asked her about home and she froze up and then I wondered what had been so bad there that dancing in front of sleazy old men was preferable.And those men seemed lonely and looking for somebody to make them feel special and loved.Perhaps there are strippers who love their jobs and wouldn't choose any other profession, but I didn't meet any that morning. Or maybe it's all in my head. Maybe they're happy and the men aren't lonely. Maybe I'm wrong. I hope so.- Anton TaylorE-mail us what you'd like to hear about from a She Said, He Said point of view: amillionmilesfromnormal@gmail.com..