An Oregon lawyer was charged with theft and trespassing after he refused to pay a stripper $200 for a lap dance
An Oregon lawyer named Dylan T. Vinzant’s decision to not pay a local stripper $200 for her lap dancing services has gotten him a theft and trespassing charge and possibly a suspension of his law license.
Vinzant got himself in all of this mess after he went down to the Sunset Strip Gentleman’s Club in a suburban area of Washington County, Oregon. He was like, “Yeah, one of my clients finally paid me.” The young, 38-year-old freshman lawyer went into the strip club, grinning from one ear to other, looking around the room to see which girl he wanted to give him 15-minutes of a jolly ol’ good time.
He spotted her, across the room, dancing for some other guy. Vinzant took out what appeared to be money and waved it high up in the air so the young lady could see him. After she finished her work with the one fella, she went over to Vinzant.
She was like, “You want a dance?”
“Yeah, hehehe,” Vinzant said.
Seeing that Vinzant maybe a little off, the stripper decided she’d better not. So she began to walk away, which caused Vinzant to grab her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, you know, you’re so pretty. And I got besides myself. Please forgive me,” Vinzant pleaded with the young stripper. Knowing that she needed the money in order to keep her Netflix on, the young stripper went ahead and gave the poor chap a chance.
They went in the back for a private dance. The young stripper hopped on the table and did her little due for 15 minutes. She almost stopped, though, when she saw Vinzant sitting in the chair, dancing right along with her. “He must live at home with his mother. I hope he doesn’t Norman Bates me,” is what the stripper thought to herself. After the alarm sounded, signaling that the 15-minutes was up, the young stripper hopped off the table, placed her left hand on her hip, and her right hand out for the money.
“How much is it,” asked Vinzant? “$200,” responded the young
stripper.”
“$200,” asked Vinzant.
“Mm-hmm,” the young stripper responded as she blew a
bubblelicious bubble that covered half of her face.
Vinzant never looked back up at the stripper. He just jumped up and bolted out of there. The stripper hit the red button, and then she joined the security guards in the chase.
“He got my $200! Get him, boys!”
“We gonna get him! We gonna get him!”
They didn’t “get him” because he had jumped a fence, ran through some bushes, and onto the train trains. Unbeknownst to him, though, some gentleman at the Sunset Strip Gentleman’s Club called 9-11.
The police were standing on the other side, waiting on him. Vinzant thought that he could pull his lawyer card on them.
But they were like, “We hope you’re not your own lawyer because
you know what they say about a lawyer who is his own lawyer.”
“No, what?!”
“He’s a fool like the man who didn’t pay the stripper for services
rendered.”
Vinzant slumped his shoulders, put his little head down and went on down to the police station where they took his fingerprints and booked him on theft and trespassing charges.
Oh yeah, lil’ Dylan’s face and nose are all bloodied up and whatnot because the bushes beat him up.
Vinzant got himself in all of this mess after he went down to the Sunset Strip Gentleman’s Club in a suburban area of Washington County, Oregon. He was like, “Yeah, one of my clients finally paid me.” The young, 38-year-old freshman lawyer went into the strip club, grinning from one ear to other, looking around the room to see which girl he wanted to give him 15-minutes of a jolly ol’ good time.
He spotted her, across the room, dancing for some other guy. Vinzant took out what appeared to be money and waved it high up in the air so the young lady could see him. After she finished her work with the one fella, she went over to Vinzant.
She was like, “You want a dance?”
“Yeah, hehehe,” Vinzant said.
Seeing that Vinzant maybe a little off, the stripper decided she’d better not. So she began to walk away, which caused Vinzant to grab her arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, you know, you’re so pretty. And I got besides myself. Please forgive me,” Vinzant pleaded with the young stripper. Knowing that she needed the money in order to keep her Netflix on, the young stripper went ahead and gave the poor chap a chance.
They went in the back for a private dance. The young stripper hopped on the table and did her little due for 15 minutes. She almost stopped, though, when she saw Vinzant sitting in the chair, dancing right along with her. “He must live at home with his mother. I hope he doesn’t Norman Bates me,” is what the stripper thought to herself. After the alarm sounded, signaling that the 15-minutes was up, the young stripper hopped off the table, placed her left hand on her hip, and her right hand out for the money.
“How much is it,” asked Vinzant? “$200,” responded the young
stripper.”
“$200,” asked Vinzant.
“Mm-hmm,” the young stripper responded as she blew a
bubblelicious bubble that covered half of her face.
Vinzant never looked back up at the stripper. He just jumped up and bolted out of there. The stripper hit the red button, and then she joined the security guards in the chase.
“He got my $200! Get him, boys!”
“We gonna get him! We gonna get him!”
They didn’t “get him” because he had jumped a fence, ran through some bushes, and onto the train trains. Unbeknownst to him, though, some gentleman at the Sunset Strip Gentleman’s Club called 9-11.
The police were standing on the other side, waiting on him. Vinzant thought that he could pull his lawyer card on them.
But they were like, “We hope you’re not your own lawyer because
you know what they say about a lawyer who is his own lawyer.”
“No, what?!”
“He’s a fool like the man who didn’t pay the stripper for services
rendered.”
Vinzant slumped his shoulders, put his little head down and went on down to the police station where they took his fingerprints and booked him on theft and trespassing charges.
Oh yeah, lil’ Dylan’s face and nose are all bloodied up and whatnot because the bushes beat him up.
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