When I launched Viagra as a Pfizer salesman, I avoided conversations with patients, simply to remove any chance of influencing their conversations with the physicians. But that didn’t stop me from hearing many at-risk cardiac patients exclaim, “If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die in the sack!” or “…die with my boots on!” or “…die in the saddle!” Apparently, there are a lot of metaphors for sex. (You can read more about this in my – if I do say so – hilarious book Hard Sell: Now a Major Motion Picture LOVE and OTHER DRUGS)
Fortunately, none of my customers’ patients died while on Viagra.
But, when I read this msn.com story about the 67-year old Texas man who dropped dead at a strip club, I immediately thought back to 1998 and the macho attitude of the aforementioned Vitamin V users.
According to a manager at the Red Parrot, Robert Gene White was face-deep in pelvic gyrations when it came time to pay the girls and he was found unresponsive.
I was hoping the guy was only faking, like the dude in the Dirty Harry movie who fakes heart attacks at restaurants so he doesn’t have to pay the bill.
It’d be much better to die during sex, than during a table dance; I don’t care how hot the stripper is. And I don’t think I wanna die with Motley Crue’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” playing in the background.
Regardless, I bet the deceased gentleman might be happy to be headed to That Last Strip Club in The Sky.
What’s your ideal way to die?
Photo by: permanently scatterbrained