More recently, Dr. Mason had noted in passing that the club's Babbage location was open, so I decided to pay a visit. Not during operating hours, I hasten to add.
Although I am told that the ladies of the club satirize famous operas and theatrical productions and ridicule conventions of the stage, and are thus not performing for prurient purposes, one cannot help but think that the gentlemen of Babbage will use these performances to scrutinize the young ladies as they scandalously wear trousers, or are even less appropriately clad.
Though no reactionary myself, I firmly believe that the female form is best admired by an intimate acquaintance from the privacy of the boudoir, not by the assembled masses surrounding a stage.
Rest assured, gentlemen, that this will not end well for you! You may think that loosening the strictures of society in this dimension provides you with pleasure at no cost beyond the coins with which you tip the performers, but heed me well. The next thing you know, these same ladies will be wearing trousers all the time, demanding to be allowed to work at your jobs, insisting on equal pay, abrogating their household duties (think about it, gents), and, worst of all, demanding the vote. No, I say, nip this evil in the bud.
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