Lap dances for businesswomen? No thanks. The Las Vegas Strip in Nevada. (Carol M. Highsmith - PHOTO BY CAROL M. HIGHSMITH) In a recent issue of Bloomberg Businessweek, a feature entitled "Business Travelers in Vegas: A Survivor's Guide" dispensed advice on how to survive in the sinful city during a three-day convention. Author Teddy Wayne offered guidance on public transportation, hotels and even gambling games like roulette and blackjack. But then came the jackpot: strip club advice. The advice to women? A businesswoman who can maintain her poise in a strip club will prove to be a team player. Wayne continues: "If you don't mind getting a lap dance, it will endear you to your male colleagues, though the endearment may not be reciprocal." Wayne adds that the "going rate" for lap dances is $20 with an additional $5 tip. Oh, and in case a woman can't "tolerate the teeming male sexuality," the author advises women to chat up the strippers and buy them a drink. They may well appreciate the female companionship. I'm almost speechless, but not quite. Let's put this in basic terms: Strip clubs are disgusting. It doesn't matter if the places are plush palatial mansions with brawny security men and expensive cocktails or cheap metal buildings off the interstate with garish neon signs and PBR for 50 cents. Some employ beautiful women who strut as if on a Parisian catwalk. Others offer bruised-up listless girls who sway nakedly. But disgusting they remain. Men - and women - visit these places daily throughout the United States. I even ventured to a few when researching and writing my book "Sex in the South: Unbuckling the Bible Belt." A handful of times was enough for me. In the bathroom of a Memphis strip club, I once chatted up some strippers. They didn't have time to talk. They busily smeared on makeup, dabbled in some drugs and rushed back to the action. They were at work, you see, and like most hard-working women, they needed the dollars, not repartee about the weather. Male colleagues should admire their female co-workers for their brains, not their willingness to tolerate a lap dance. Women should not have to endure sleaze in order to thrive and succeed in business. Let's turn the tables for a second, shall we? In a world where businesswomen at a convention dragged men to a Chippendales show after an afternoon of pedicures, manicures and fruity drinks in pink martini glasses, I can just see it: "C'mon Pete, be a team player, chat up that dancer, put a dollar down Apollo's G-string, come on now, don't be shy," the businesswoman would say. It'll endear you to the sales team. We won't forget this when bonus time comes along. Yeah, men wouldn't like that so much, would they? They certainly wouldn't brag about that to their buddies at the gym. If men or women want to explore strip clubs, go ahead. I did. But to suggest in a business magazine that in order to be a team player, a woman should play along, well, thanks for the tip, but no, thanks. We can navigate our own career paths, thanks - and don't need a pocketful of singles to get there.