Lap-dance therapy

In my travels, I've encountered some sad souls in various corners of both the real and digital worlds. But this confession by a lonely, 24-year-old male who frequents strip clubs makes my top ten:

"I've gone to strip clubs because my life lacks intimacy. There we go. Might as well just come out with it. Nobody talks to me, nobody cares what I say. I'm a 24-year-old drone who wastes his days sitting at a computer reviewing spreadsheets that don't really matter. ... The reason I go to places like this is for those moments when they stay and talk. That's all I wanted. They don't have to be naked. They could be wearing a suit of armor for all I care; I just want to talk to someone who cares, and $1 every 3 minutes is a lot less than $250 an hour for a therapist."

The anonymous letter is among the many that Susannah Breslin (a freelance journalist and author) has collected for her Letters Project (in this case, "Letters From Men Who Go To Strip Clubs"). As for strip-club-man, a self-described "drone," none of us can know the true (and no doubt complicated) psychological issues that underlie his social isolation. But it surely doesn't help that we reside in a culture where people too often measure self-worth by the number of Facebook "friends" they have or, worse, live by the credo: "I Tweet, Therefore I Am." And it is disheartening that so few seem to realize that popularity (or fame) does not end loneliness. Anyway, I hope the lap-dance "therapy" works for this poor guy. In a sense, it is more rational than manically posting banalities on Facebook or Twitter (which exhibit environments eerily reminiscent of high school) in an endless bid for attention.