Supporters of the arts on Cape Cod were dealt a low blow recently, as the Mashpee Center For The Performing Arts is going on the market.
Also known as "Zachary's Pub," it has been one of the few business establishments on Cape Cod to feature Dance as an art form. It is also the only place on Cape Cod where the dancers don't wear clothes.
The Mashpee Ballet is up for sale, for a mere $4.3 million. That gets you not only the MCFTPA, but 6.17 acres with 13 buildings that sport 50 single/multi family housing units.
Zachary's should attract national buyer attention, as they have a hard-to-get "floor show permit" that allows them to let their customers appreciate the Leonardonian mechanics of an idealized human body in motion. Those don't just grow on trees, and people who own strip clubs (plural) are constantly looking for such opportunities.
However, the buyer is under no obligation to provide the girls of Cape Cod and the Greater New Bedford area with an opportunity to show off their pole-dancing prowess. The sale of the Mashpee Ballet to a non-believer of a purchaser could be the end of an era on Cape Cod.
We can't let that happen, people!
Due to some frivolous spending (Cranberry County Magazine has long sought to be the only publication in eastern Massachusetts to have a nuclear weapon, and defense industry experts estimate that we are 3-5 years away from producing a fission device), I don't have the $4.3 million handy right now in liquid assets. Happens to the best of us, right?
Given the ribald nature of the business, it may not be feasible to get $1.14 out of every man, woman and child in Massachusetts to buy the MCFTPA and keep it as a municipal resource, sort of like how the Green Bay Packers are operated.
Strip clubs aren't as bad as they used to be. "You could kill a bitch in a strip club in the 80s," as Joey Diaz once noted. You'll be a much-respected and dare I say much-loved figure on Cape Cod if you intervene here.
One thing I can do to help the cause is make a quick list of:
UNDER THE RADAR REASONS TO OWN THE MASHPEE BALLET
1) All dynasties fall. If there's ever going to be a Kennedy offspring reduced to stripping, she's probably going to come knocking on the Ballet's door.
2) Create a new Thanksgiving tradition by having an authentic Wampanoag stripper and a white (hopefully of English descent) stripper from Plymouth share the stage, sort of a less messy version of the WWE's annual Gravy Bowl Match.
3) A budding reality show producer could immediately see the benefits of buying the Mashpee Ballet and the adjoining housing units. Expand the Ballet somewhat, fill each of the housing units with strippers, and Voila!
Mashpee Ballet!
Motherf***ers be watching reality shows about tow truck drivers, pawn shops clerks, midget couples, tuna fishermen and God knows what else. Who wouldn't watch a show about a dystopian commune village, populated entirely by strippers? Nobody I know, that's who!
4) It's tough for a girl on Cape Cod to find high-paying night-shift work.
5) How many professions truly honor beauty? Supermodel jobs are few and far between, and I think that you have to have been born with an exotic first name. Strippers may have cool names, but they are more of the nom de guerre variety.
6) "Legs and Eggs" as a breakfast option vanishes from Cape Cod the day the Ballet dies. This will be replaced with the much less desirable "Wrists and Cysts" feature at the local orthopedic surgeon's place.
7) Many strip club patrons are respectable men who just want to see a different set of yabbos after 30 years of marriage, but who lack the testicular fortitude (or, perhaps in many cases, the charisma) to accomplish this feat without a place like the Mashpee Ballet.
8) In the same vein, many patrons are the Cape's bottom-feeders, and they will be left with a choice of "never see a nude woman again" or "take one by force." I'd just drive to a New Bedford gentleman's club, myself... but some people don't like commuting. This is more an exception than a rule, but many 108 pound strippers prevent more sexual assaults than the biggest, meanest cop.
9) If I won the lottery, I'd go to great lengths to establish a Hefneresque lifestyle. I wouldn't mind a white trash version of that, where instead of the Playboy Mansion, I'd have my family of lap-dancin' ladies spread out over 6 acres of ramshackle sharecropper-style housing in Mashpee. I can't be the only one on Cape Cod who thinks this way.
10) Its going to be strange when I go Marylou's or Burger King and get waited on by someone named "Synn."
Zachary's should attract national buyer attention, as they have a hard-to-get "floor show permit" that allows them to let their customers appreciate the Leonardonian mechanics of an idealized human body in motion. Those don't just grow on trees, and people who own strip clubs (plural) are constantly looking for such opportunities.
However, the buyer is under no obligation to provide the girls of Cape Cod and the Greater New Bedford area with an opportunity to show off their pole-dancing prowess. The sale of the Mashpee Ballet to a non-believer of a purchaser could be the end of an era on Cape Cod.
We can't let that happen, people!
Due to some frivolous spending (Cranberry County Magazine has long sought to be the only publication in eastern Massachusetts to have a nuclear weapon, and defense industry experts estimate that we are 3-5 years away from producing a fission device), I don't have the $4.3 million handy right now in liquid assets. Happens to the best of us, right?
Given the ribald nature of the business, it may not be feasible to get $1.14 out of every man, woman and child in Massachusetts to buy the MCFTPA and keep it as a municipal resource, sort of like how the Green Bay Packers are operated.
Strip clubs aren't as bad as they used to be. "You could kill a bitch in a strip club in the 80s," as Joey Diaz once noted. You'll be a much-respected and dare I say much-loved figure on Cape Cod if you intervene here.
One thing I can do to help the cause is make a quick list of:
UNDER THE RADAR REASONS TO OWN THE MASHPEE BALLET
1) All dynasties fall. If there's ever going to be a Kennedy offspring reduced to stripping, she's probably going to come knocking on the Ballet's door.
2) Create a new Thanksgiving tradition by having an authentic Wampanoag stripper and a white (hopefully of English descent) stripper from Plymouth share the stage, sort of a less messy version of the WWE's annual Gravy Bowl Match.
3) A budding reality show producer could immediately see the benefits of buying the Mashpee Ballet and the adjoining housing units. Expand the Ballet somewhat, fill each of the housing units with strippers, and Voila!
Mashpee Ballet!
Motherf***ers be watching reality shows about tow truck drivers, pawn shops clerks, midget couples, tuna fishermen and God knows what else. Who wouldn't watch a show about a dystopian commune village, populated entirely by strippers? Nobody I know, that's who!
4) It's tough for a girl on Cape Cod to find high-paying night-shift work.
5) How many professions truly honor beauty? Supermodel jobs are few and far between, and I think that you have to have been born with an exotic first name. Strippers may have cool names, but they are more of the nom de guerre variety.
6) "Legs and Eggs" as a breakfast option vanishes from Cape Cod the day the Ballet dies. This will be replaced with the much less desirable "Wrists and Cysts" feature at the local orthopedic surgeon's place.
7) Many strip club patrons are respectable men who just want to see a different set of yabbos after 30 years of marriage, but who lack the testicular fortitude (or, perhaps in many cases, the charisma) to accomplish this feat without a place like the Mashpee Ballet.
8) In the same vein, many patrons are the Cape's bottom-feeders, and they will be left with a choice of "never see a nude woman again" or "take one by force." I'd just drive to a New Bedford gentleman's club, myself... but some people don't like commuting. This is more an exception than a rule, but many 108 pound strippers prevent more sexual assaults than the biggest, meanest cop.
9) If I won the lottery, I'd go to great lengths to establish a Hefneresque lifestyle. I wouldn't mind a white trash version of that, where instead of the Playboy Mansion, I'd have my family of lap-dancin' ladies spread out over 6 acres of ramshackle sharecropper-style housing in Mashpee. I can't be the only one on Cape Cod who thinks this way.
10) Its going to be strange when I go Marylou's or Burger King and get waited on by someone named "Synn."
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| from Becomestripper.com |
