Mike Rowe Does A Dirty Jobs Episode About Stripping

EXTERIOR TWILIGHT

Mike Rowe stands beside an SUV parked in front of a large, maroon, windowless building, clad in his usual “working man” attire.

“Today, I’m going undercover to perform one of the dirtiest jobs, both literally and figuratively.” He pulls out a duffle bag “Betcha can’t guess what it is.”

Mike shuts his trunk which reveals a brightly lit Hunk-O-Mania sign.

“That’s right, I’m Mike Rowe, and this is Dirty Jobs.”

Mike Rowe walks into Hunk-O-Mania and a manager shows him to a dressing room. The dressing room is cramped with a drop ceiling, stained carpet, wall of mirrors, and countertops cluttered with a row of duffle bags.

“I’m about to work a Saturday night as one of Hunk-O-Mania’s famous hunks—“

The manager holds up a hand, “Not so fast! First you have to audition.”

Mike looks at the camera, milking an expression reminiscent of Macaulay Culkin on the cover of Home Alone.

“You’ve got 15 minutes to get dressed and ready, Mike. Hope your routine passes the test.”

We watch Mike open up the duffle for the first time. It’s clear he has no idea what’s inside. He pulls out a cowboy hat and a cow print banana hammock.

“What have I gotten myself into?” Mike murmurs as he inspects the tiny outfit.

In the next shot, we see Mike shirtless, wearing a pair of assless chaps, thong, bandana, and the cowboy hat from the previous shot, looking sheepish. Another stripper walks by in a fireman costume and slaps Mike’s bottom.

Over the speaker system, we hear the MC announce, “Next up is the dirtiest man in television! Ladies, give it up for Magic Mike Rowe!”

The crowd erupts in applause as Lonesome Cowboy blares through the stereo. Mike walks on stage, red in the face.

Cut to a behind-the-scenes video testimonial of Mike, back in the dressing room after his performance.

“As soon as the music came on, my heart was beating a mile a minute. I knew what I had to do, but all of a sudden it was like my legs wouldn’t move”

Cut to a shot of a woman in the audience cheering hysterically.

“He just looked so nervous up there, bless his heart! I wanted to give him a hug, but all I could do was cheer him on and throw my little stack of money.”

Camera pans over to another woman with glossy eyes, holding a champagne glass.

“I’m not gonna lie, it was more… sexual than I expected. I hadn’t thought of Mike that way, but…” she licks her lips, “There’s something about a mature man swinging his hips. I saw what was going on in his little pouch, and I hope I’m not overstepping when I say that I was impressed.”

Cut back to Mike in the dressing room.

“The next thing I knew, D. Rail handed me a pill and a shot, and told me to make sure I got close to the audience. I didn’t know it then, but he’d handed me a Viagra. My heart was pumping so fast, it must have made the thing kick in quicker than normal, because as soon as I got on stage, Little Mike was up there with me. And when I say ‘up there,’ I mean it was standing up, real hard. Almost like it used to thirty years ago.”

Cut to a row of women up close to the stage.

Cut back to the woman holding the champagne glass.

“Boiiing!” she says with a wink.

Cut to Mike.

“I liked the song. I was feeling myself, like the kids say. I think I did okay for my first time.”

Cut to D. Rail.

“It was sloppy. The man hit the ones and the threes, but did I expect more from Mike Rowe?” D. Rail continues, “It’s like watching my father dance: disgusting, but I couldn’t help but root for him.” D. Rail clicks his tongue, “I mean, it wasn’t terrible.”

Cut to Mike.

“I probably made $200 off that first dance, which is not bad, if I do say so myself.”

Cut to the manager of the club sitting in an austere white office with a cheap, particle board desk covered in manila folders.

“I’m Jared, by the way. We like to think of Hunk-O-Mania as a family. We all work hard to contribute to a fun, sexy experience you want to come back to again and again. It takes a whole team to make the magic happen, and so we ask our performers to share a percentage of what they earn with everybody.”

Cut to Mike in the dressing room.

“D. Rail told me he tips out $20 from every $100 he makes, which seems like a lot, but I guess that’s how it works, so that’s what I did.”

Cut to Mike handing Jared a stack of ones. Jared counts the money and pockets it.

“Not too shabby, Mike. You really surprised me up there. The ladies were going crazy. Good job, slugger,” Jared says.

“Thanks. It was the experience of a lifetime.”

“I wanted to offer you the opportunity to take this show on the road, and work a private party. You wouldn’t be alone, D. Rail will come along with you, show you the ropes and whatnot.”

Cut to Mike.

“I didn’t think I was qualified, but Jared assured me that the only way to learn is to get out onto the field and get dirty. I’ve never taken a dance lesson in my life. Heck, the closest I’ve come to showing my moves was dancing the Cha Cha Slide at a wedding reception.”

Cut to D. Rail, outside on the Hunk-O-Mania patio, smoking a cigarette.

“I wanted to watch, I mean, it’s like witnessing a slow motion trainwreck. You just can’t turn away. Mike doesn’t groom, he doesn’t seem to work out, he didn’t know that the ladies expect to feel something when they grab your–”

Cut to Mike.

“I did not realize how much touching was involved, I’ll admit it. I thought I just did my dance and the ladies tucked money, you know, wherever they could. But, it’s full on.”

In the next scene, we see an expensive suburban home full of middle aged white women in gawdy mini dresses. It’s a bachelorette party. One woman wears a crown and a sash that reads “Bridezilla, Bitch!” Mike Rowe is dancing, doing belly rolls. He’s wearing the collar and cuffs of a suit and a g-string. A woman sneaks behind him and slides a dollar into the g-string near his anus. Mike yelps and jumps up, surprised.

Cut to D. Rail smoking on the patio.

“They’ll put a finger in your [bleep] if you’re not careful. A group of horny women with dollar bills and no sense of etiquette,” D. Rail clicks his tongue reflecting, “ It’s a dangerous game we play.”

Cut to the interior of Mike’s SUV. Mike has just left the party. He is clothed again and looking rattled.

“I was under prepared.”

Cut back to the bachelorette party. D. Rail sets out a chair and has the bride-to-be sit in it. He starts giving her a lap dance. In a single move, he flips her over and pretends to engage in “doggy style” sex. The crowd goes wild. Mike stands off to the side, watching sheepishly. One of the women sidles over to him and starts groping his bicep, then his chest. She whispers in his ear, and Mike turns beet red.

Cut to Mike in the car.

“She wanted to purchase sexual services from me. I’d never been propositioned before, but then, all of a sudden, it was happening. I was flattered, don’t get me wrong. But it seemed illegal.”

Cut to D. Rail.

“I would have taken it. She was offering $500, and she wasn’t even bad looking. I’ve [bleep] uglier [bleep] for a lot less. But, I guess that kind of money doesn’t matter to a guy like Mike. He’s already loaded.”

Cut to Mike.

“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She seemed like a nice woman, but I couldn’t accept her offer.”

Cut back to the bachelorette party. D. Rail approaches the woman. The two exchange numbers.

“$500 is good money,” D. Rail shrugs.

D. Rail presses play on an old school portable stereo system, and Mike takes the center of the dance floor. He awkwardly walks up to each of the women and jerkily gyrates his hips in their direction. A few women take the opportunity to pull him close and grind against him. One woman reaches her thumbs into either side of his g-string and “drops it low,” pulling the g-string down along with her. The crowd gasps and cheers. Mike covers his genitals and runs out of the room.

Cut to Mike in a nondescript studio interview with a producer.

“Did they steal your thong?”

Mike looks away from the camera.

“They did.”

Cut to D. Rail.

“That’ll happen if you’re not careful. You have to protect your thong, or accept that some horny [bleep] is gonna run off with it.”

Cut back to Mike.

“I felt violated. I was naked, in front of these women who I’ve never met, and then all of a sudden they started chanting.”

“What were they chanting?” the producer asks off cam.

“[beep]”

“We’re going to have to bleep that out.”

“They wanted to see my genitals.”

“And did you?”

Mike blushes.

Cut to D. Rail.

“Mike is 60-years-old. Things sag. It is what it is.”

Cut to Mike.

“It all happened so fast. I didn’t even think. Next thing I knew, some woman was grabbing me, and that’s when I knew I was done. Adiós amigos! Amigas, in this case.”

Cut back to the exterior of Hunk-O-Mania. Mike Rowe stands outside of the club fully dressed in his normal clothes.

“I’ve done a lot of episodes of Dirty Jobs through the years and visited hundreds of workplaces. I’ve been challenged in all kinds of ways, but never have I experienced a challenge quite like this one. Male strippers deserve a lot of credit for putting up with what they do. Between dancing for hours, working up a sweat like I’ve never experienced before and having to pull sticky $1’s from between my cheeks, and getting groped by strangers–well, I can say for a fact I won’t be forgetting this experience anytime soon. Thank you to all the strippers at Hunk-O-Mania for being absolute rockstars, and a special shoutout to my new friend, D. Rail. I’m Mike Rowe, and this has been Dirty Jobs.”

Cut to a final shot of D. Rail, smoking on the patio again, but in a different outfit.

“I did not, nor have I ever, engaged in any illegal activities,” D. Rail smirks.