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azdd
07-03-2006, 09:01 AM
I’m a perv, but not an obvious perv. A perv covered by a thin film of respectability.
ROFL! I gotta stop reading SCJ in my office, this made me laugh so hard the secretary asked me what was so funny :D .

Excellent TR Mortalman! I think I need to start creating an excuse for a trip to El Paso! Hell, it's only 250 miles away...Gen does that in his sleep!

CarGuy
07-05-2006, 06:49 AM
Good God Mortalman...sounds like quite the trip. Niiiiice.

Howie
07-06-2006, 08:32 PM
Went by the club during the day so as to not bump into dancer A from my last visit. I was looking for a particular dancer (C) who I had met during a previous daytime visit. Saw her sitting at the bar with another dancer (D) who I also had gotten friendly with on a previous occasion. Before I could speak to my intended target, Ms D saw me, got up from her chair and gave me a big hug. Told me she had to go on stage next and she’d be ready to dance for me when she was done. Told her I would get some dances from Ms C while till she was done and to come look for me. She gave me a kind of funny look, but said okay. With that I guess she went to the DR to get ready.

I turned to Ms D and asked if she wanted to go to VIP. She didn’t say anything, but stood up and grabbed my hand and lead me back. This girl is in her thirties and thicker than most of the other dancers, but I think she’s sexy as hell. She has these nice bolt-ons with the biggest damn nipples I’ve ever seen. I’m usually opposed to having a dancer feed me her nipples unless I know she’s just come on shift and hasn’t been with any other PLs before me. Well I make an exception for her.

Well she gets close and personal and I’m really enjoying myself when Ms D comes in and sits right next to us.

“You ready for me?”

“After this song is over, I’m a little busy right now.”

“Alright, I’ll just wait right here.”

Well she did just sit there until the song was over. I didn’t let her bother me too much.

After the song ended, Ms C stood up and started putting her clothes on. Ms D leaned over and asked if I wanted a double dance.

“I can play with you while you play with C!”

My opinion of double dances is just a way to empty your wallet twice as fast, so I declined.

Ms D started right up the next song on me. I guess she was paying attention to Ms C and I because she immediately grabbed my head and smothered my face with her boobs, which I might add are quite nice.

After a couple of songs, she starts doing the joy stick thing and talking about how she’s going to make me squirt. I told her I it wasn’t my first time at a SC and that wasn’t going to happen. She chuckled and said I guarantee it and at that she stuffed her hand down the front of my pants and started to pull.

“You got a condom?”

“No, what would I need a condom for?”

“You need to put one on so when you come, it won’t get all over everything.”

“I’ll let you know if that’s about to happen so you can stop.”

After numerous dances, (I didn’t cum) I decided to quit and told her it was time for me to leave.

“Before you come back, I want you to go to a sex store and buy one of those vibrators with a remote control.”

“What for?”

“I want you to put it in your ass and let me run the control and I guarantee you’ll get off”

“There ain’t nothing going up my ass!”

“Don’t you want to have fun while you’re here?”

“I do have fun, but my ass is off limits.”

I paid her and left.

PS Dancer A called the other day and left a message for me. To paraphrase, “I’m sorry I acted so bitchy on my last message. I was drunk and lonely and was really feeling down and decided to take my frustrations out on you. Please come see me again. If you’ll just call to let me know when you can come in, I’ll be there just for you. Maybe you’ll reconsider some day that I might just be the one for you.”

My only thought was that she wasn’t missing me, but my money.

dayzed
07-12-2006, 09:27 AM
Ms. K is, as I said, blonde a small slim natural body and really quite cute. She says she doesn’t normally work on Mondays but she came in tonight because she really needed the money. (SS) She is so glad she came in cause she got to meet me. (SS) A guy she danced for earlier asked “how much for sex?”, when she said $300 he countered with $80 … “$80, can you believe that MortalMan,… what a cheap ass!” She is having so much fun with me we should do a dance. (SS) We have another drink and then head back. This was the perfect way to finish the evening since she “needed money” we were able to fix a price for her services and time. She ground on me, fed me the kitty, asked me to “F**K me harder” when I used my fingers. We ended our time with a BBBJ, she told me to let her know when I was going to “finish”. I asked her where she wanted me to “finish”, she said “In my mouth”

Good times,… Good times
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina;
Music would play and [Ms. K] would whirl.

Nice TR. Is this par for the course in your burg?

Casual Observer
07-12-2006, 12:21 PM
Nothing good happens in Tacoma.

Susan Wayward
07-12-2006, 01:03 PM
I want to see pictures of that '68 Mustang! Reading that story I got really worried about your rental, too . . .

mortalman
07-12-2006, 09:15 PM
Nice TR. Is this par for the course in your burg?

No I wouldn't say par, maybe 2 or 3 under.
Some nights I go in there and can't break 80 (to carry on the golfing analogy)

}:D

mortalman
07-12-2006, 09:17 PM
Nothing good happens in Tacoma.

Isn't there a club called Fox's there that's supposed to be pretty good?

I knew a dancer here that had danced there.

FBR
07-15-2006, 02:30 PM
Jay :thumbsup: great read!

FBR

CarGuy
07-16-2006, 08:15 PM
Nice trip Jay. I'm already jonesing for another visit this week....

ld_for_b
07-16-2006, 09:04 PM
A visit to San Francisco

Based on an , I visited the Mithchell Brothers O'Farrell Theater.

Unfortunately, I've been working crazy hours before I went, and the trip was no exception. My workday started at 7am and ended at 10pm. I actually considered not going to the club, but forced myself in the interests of scientific inquiry. I arrived at the club around midnight with my veins fully pumped of caffeine.

Admission -- $40

The place itself is medium sized with interesting rooms. The club is transversed by corridor leading to the various "named" rooms. One room was a movie theater showing vintage porn. The main action occurs at the back of the club with a main stage surrounded by nice theater style seats (the "New York Live") and, right across, the Green Room which was to show girl/girl shows at regular intervals. Throughout the space were little private rooms, some (all?) having green/red lights overhead.

Typically, when I first get into a club I like to "warm-up" a bit. This usually involves a drink and a few lap dances. This was especially true that night, since I was hopped up on coffee...

Neverfear, as CP predicted, within minuted an Eastern European lovely was standing next to me, asking for dance, while at the same time massaging my loins. She had brown hair, a tight body (nice small breasts) and a decent face -- perfect for a warm up. I should say at this point that quality of the women was good -- say 7-9 range.

The dance was $40 (or sixty nude). During the dance we exchanged the usual pleasantries:

"Where are you from?"

"What do you do?"

"Did you come here to be naughty?"

The answer to that last was "yes" and we entered the negotiating stage. I had no interest in her, but wanted to get a sense of the pricing -- my other reason for the warm-up dance.

I asked her "what's available"

"Everything" was the response.

Well, I was interested in the piano man.

$$$$$ she says (WOW!!) Fortunately, thanks to my research, I was ready.

"That's too much -- I pay $$ at home" needless to say I'm paraphrasing at this point.

"OK, she says, lets split the difference to $$$50"

I felt there was room furhter to go down, but I dont like to push the negotiation unless I'm really interested. I excused myself.

Unfortunately, I still wasnt really warmed up and at 40 bucks a pop, a warm-up did not come cheap.

At that point, the girl/girl show started in the Green Room. The show was dissapointing -- I've seen much better stuff at the GGR. There was very little touching and no licking at all! I did like one of the women -- she looked like a Philipina mix (she later said she was spanish an italian -- doubtful) with a great (I mean great) ass. She also had bolt-ons, but I did not let that stop me.

I tipped 20 at the stage (the seats were right up close) and I was the first person she turned to. I agreed to a dance (I'm not much for rule 12) and off we went to the theater. It was a good dance, but she immeduately started with the same routine as first girl.

Same offer from her -- same bid from me. We settled at $$$40, all in. That meant room fees as well.

The room was small, but very comfortable. The side table contained (as it turned out) a supply of condoms and tissues.

Overall, I wasn't too happy with the service (obviously, I was happy). Her technique was bad (nuff said) and so was her attitude. There was no effort to make anything feel sexy. For example, I actually asked her at one point to look in my eyes as she was proceeding. (BTW, I know alll the arguments, but customer service is customer service -- I don't like all of my clients either)

The other problem was the room fee. The room has a meter which takes $20. The amount of minutes you get for 20 is a closely guarded secret (I tried to ask the staff -- to no avail) which allows the girls to negotiate the all in rate. I think 20 gave you 10 minutes. This creates incentive issues. The quicker the girl finishes -- the more she keeps. And since she does not want to overpay, she puts the minimum amount in the meter. As a result, during our time she had to stop and feed the meter. That killed the flow a bit.

Overall, this palce is a brothel and good if you are looking for a sure thing. But its definetely not cheap.

lunchbox
08-02-2006, 03:08 PM
It's been a few months, so I'm doing a TR for this past weekend. My wife went away for the weekend, and I've been dieing to get out on the weekend for a month now. My mother happens to be visiting my cousins this weekend, so I have to keep an eye out for papabox, who I ate with Friday night. Luckily, I know he mostly goes to TMC, and I wouldn't be caught dead there.

Firday night (part 1).

Papabox and I finish with dinner and coffee at around 9:30ish, I go looking for a tobacco or head shop that is still open, because I really want a few packs of Nat Shermans and a new lighter for the weekend. Right as I pull into the parking lot where the Bizarre Bizarre on Richmond was, my wife calls.

me: hi honey
wife: I got you!
me: huh?
wife: I saw you pull into that SC with all your friends...
me: yeah right, you know me...
<normal conversation ensues>

I get home, walk the dog, put on some fresh clothes (I don't like going out for 7 hours wearing something I'd already worn for 16 hours). I stopped wearing belts to SC's this weekend, and am quite happy with the decision. I leave at about 10:15.

First stop, Penthouse to see Miss L, who I hadn't seen in well over a month. Only to be told she quit about a month ago, I think she finished school and got a real job. Pity, she was #2 all time in looks and #1 all time in dancing ability. I survey the club, and see one or two possibilities. I get an idea, I decide what the hell, and walk across Winrock.

It was about 11:30 when I got into Babydoll's. I had told myself I would never go back here, oh well. I know the dancer who just finishing up on stage, her LD's are two much like she is just trying to dry hump, via pounding your dick with her ass, not friction. I grab a drink and eyeball the dancers, there are about a dozen of them. Aside from the girl on stage there are only two more I find somewhat attractive. The one I really want is fucko'd, the other one is actually working.

Aside from those two guys with those dancers and myself, there was one couple there, and that is it. I'm soon impressed by a Latina's hustle, and I practiced a little Spanish (I'm taking classes) with her, so I buy a dance from her. When I'm done paying I see that the girl who was being fucko'd is free now, and tipping her friend on stage. I grab a few singles out of my pocket and get over there ASAP. While waiting for the girl on stage to take my tip I inquire from the girl I was really up there to see is free now. She says yes, and we head to the back wall. she tells me the fucko is a regular of hers, but he was drunk and annoying, so she sent him to go eat some food and sober up, but if he came back she would go sit with him. I smirk and say, "mmmmhm."

Miss S is 2?, recently had a messy divorce from her common law husband in February, and was moving in with a new guy in a week or two, that she could already see herself being married to. She is about 5'0" barefoot, 100-105 lbs, A cups, white thong, white mesh one piece barely covering her cute little yet rounded butt, that fit her perfectly with her girl next door face. Ink: she had her real name tramp stamped, a Chinese symbol for friend on her ankle, her ex-husbands name tattooed in some kind of graphic on her hip, as well as where a wedding ring would go. She throws in some choice Ebonics phrases when she speaks, it sounds rather comical because her voice is standard white girl with a tiny bit of valley girl and teeny bopper.

We do 2 dances, have a smoke, do 2 more, and she has to get on stage. She does her set and fucko is still not there. So I guess I'm looking pretty good right now. I opt for more privacy, and we get el cheapo nasty bottle of shit upstairs, where I'd never been, which BTW, is a totally wasted space for the club. If they redid the place and made better use of it, they could actually compete toe to toe, with the neighborhood. AFAIK, the current owner has had the club for over two years now since his brother died, and just keeps doing worse and worse.

Her dances are 'nice' not over the top, but not lacking in contact/content. One funny moment, she had both hands on the table, and knees on the couch one on each side of me (prone position) with her ass facing me. When a dancer is in the is position usually I'll just grab and squeeze her ass, or thighs or something. If it's been 2 or 3 dances and the rules/precedent has been established, I use this position to get a rear view of everything. So, I stuck my thumb under the crotch part of her thong right where it meets the waistband, and start moving to to the side, she's kind of rocking her hips in little circles, and after two or three the material slips off my thumb and snaps right into place, and I hear a short, exhaled, high pitched "ooh!" When our time is up her count is 5 dances behind mine, so I tip her for half the difference. It's 1:45 and I walk back to Penthouse.

They recognize me from earlier, so I give the door guy a $5, and walk in. I grab a drink before last call, spot a dancer of interest from earlier, see her spending a lot of time in the dressing room hallway (there is a mirror along the wall, so you can see who is hanging out by the entrance to the dressing room/talking to the DJ form the entire bar and a third of the floor seats), and talking to the DJ, so the next time she walks by I ask if she's sitting with anyone, she says yes, and then goes back to hang out with the DJ... The next girl to come up is Miss M, incredible body, not my type, but my type is apparently not working tonight. So I go to tip and ask if she is sitting with anyone, she says no, but she has two more stages to do. I tip her again at another stage. She finishes her stages, and proceeds to go around the room and takes her time talking to everyone, except for me... Ladies, if a guy had "FUCK OFF" tattooed on his forehead like me, but was your biggest stage tipper, would you go talk to him after your set before non-tippers? I was starting to get kind of sour, and was about to take off, when she approached me.

Miss M is 6' in her heels, this is kind of a delicate situation, because I'm not entirely sure she was born a woman. She had a fake voice that sounded like a tranny who smoked two packs a day. Her super crazy hourglass figure I just don't think a tranny could get to regardless of surgery, she was something like 36/38D(man made) - 21/22 - 34, maybe 1-2% body fat. She was very pretentious, kind of rude, former TMC dancer, didn't allow much contact past her outer thighs and back. Didn't do very many dances, and she didn't seem to want to do them either. So I paid her and decided I was done with PH for the weekend.

3:45 AM, I pull up to the valet at Legends. I haven't been here since April, and the guy recognizes me. Coming in this late I figure most of the most girls in high demand have probably made as much as they want for the night and have left. I stood next to the bar on the side by the DJ booth, because if I was getting dances it would be from the girl standing 4 feet away from me at the DJ booth. She was the closest to my type on the floor. Then the unbelievable happened, she actually approached me, and asked if I wanted company, chatted me up for a few minutes, before asking for a dance. She gave a great nude dance, and had one of the cutest little onions I ever did see, honestly, I just wanted to take my index finger and start tapping it to see what kind of a sound it would make... that doesn't exactly make as much sense as I would like it to, but I don't really feel like giving an explanation.

I walked back onto the floor, where about 15 minutes later with 20 minutes left in the night, I saw an extremely attractive stripper I hadn't seen before come out of one of the private dance rooms, and go to an upstairs one. I got her name from the guy who was tracking dancers or the rooms, don't know for sure what he does. I figure I'm going to try to have to get in there earlier for Saturday night, TBC...

lunchbox
08-03-2006, 12:26 PM
Saturday:

It's 7pm, I've jerked off like 3 times already today, and watched all the decent movies I could get out of The Redbox. I'm getting antsy, and I decide why wait... So I put on a decent shirt, and go. I just have to be home at around 10 to talk to my wife and walk the dog, before I can go out for the rest of the night.

First up, the one you know and love, Treasures. I finished paying my cover and stuff and actually walk in at about 7:45. While paying my cover, I noticed a lot of girls just hanging out at the first bar with no guys there. I walk around the corner and there are maybe 4 guys in the front room, but at least 30 strippers and waitresses just sitting around. The entire front row and the row just in front of the raised section is just ladies sitting around. I almost trip over my own feet I'm so shocked. I quickly put my eyes on the ground and walk quickly to the back bar, hoping to not draw a swarm.

The back bar is maybe 5 or 6 guys and 2 dancers occupied with guys at the bar. I get a drink a start looking for someone I'd want to spend a little time with. Even with all those girls just sitting there, I don't see anything my speed, so I grab a seat by the shine stand and just watch the foot traffic for a bit. I get asked if I would like company at a rate of about 2 girls per song till one girl just parks it on my armrest, chats me up, and asks for a token of appreciation instead of a dance, so I give her a $5. I've been here about an hour and decide time to move on.

I get to Centerfolds just after 9, I figure by now things should be picking up somewhere. I was wrong. the club was dead and only had a half dozen girls on the floor. They were doing 3 song stage sets. There were 2 girls I would have gotten dances from. One on stage whom I tipped a couple of bucks too, and another who was taking turns with a group of guys, going up to the couches 1 at a time. I'm just hanging out at the bar tipping a buck a girl on stage since I don't have time to change venues again before heading home. I walk out at about 9:40 and on my way out, my phone rings.

My wife typically calls at 10 sharp when she is out of town, so I'm startled and have no excuse for why I'd be in the car at this hour, so I don't answer... I make it home, run upstairs, check the caller ID, and sure enough she had called the house phone as well just 3 minutes ago. I call her back, and tell her I missed the call cause I was taking a shit.

After about 20 minutes on the phone with her, I walk the dog, and change into my evening wear. I get to my first stop minutes before 11. It doesn't look like any SC I've ever been to. It's got big untinted glass doors and windows leading into the well lit reception/lobby area, and looks like it was cursed in the 80's to never change...

I had to go here to say I went here, I had a drink almost threw up because of some guys BO at the bar, walked around for a minute and left... In case you don't know, it was Michael's aka TGSOE. That is all about I can say about that without causing permanent damage to anyone.

I head down the feeder to Colorado, I've only been there once, and it wasn't spectacular or anything. I wanted to give it another shot since I'd been bouncing around all night. I tried telling the door girl my phone didn't have a camera, she wasn't buying it, and I need to have my phone with me at all times; so I left.

I decided to give T's one more shot tonight before I head over to Legends to see if the stripper I saw at the end of the night was working. Just before midnight I end up paying cover again and I walk in to see the Treasures we all know and love. Right then I know, this is going to be good, but I'm going to have to leave it to be continued for now...

BTW - Sporty, I got the full Brooke video and some of a new girl Liz Vicious, too bad the guy she fucks has a nasty dick and doesn't know how to use it.

dayzed
08-03-2006, 12:51 PM
Lunch, your posts always crack me up but tend to take the form of brief, sarcastic one-off retorts, so I was glad to see you extend yourself with these entertaining entries. Your honesty in regard to dealings with the SO was particularly refreshing. I look forward to your (I assume forthcoming) next installment.

I am dying to visit Houston. I have to come up with some kind of excuse for the out-of-town trip.

lunchbox
08-03-2006, 02:49 PM
TY. The next part will go where no TR has gone before (AFAIK), and I keep my pants on the whole time. It will be extremely graphic and detailed, but I don't think everyone is going to enjoy it.

newbler
08-06-2006, 05:47 PM
I got a chance to see Ashley (Cally here on SW) at I Dont Knows in Toronto, ON on friday night. I walked into the club at about 10:30 and she was on stage. At the time I didn't know who she was but I thought geez, this girl is hot so I pulled up a seat to pervert's row. Not long after that Ashley pulled me on stage to partake in her show, quite a warm welcome to the club I must say. After she was done her stage show, I got a chance to spend some time with this attractive young lady. Ashley is a very beautiful and sensual young lady and I enjoyed every minute I spent with her in the VIP. Once we had finished in the VIP, it was almost time for Ashley to be on stage again so I waited patiently through the other acts. Ashley's finalle of a stage show really blew me away, not to say that her previous performance when I had arrived at the club was anything less than awesome, but I think it was the naughty police officer outfit that really did it for me. When Ashley started this set, I moved up to pervert's row, and once again she dragged me onto the stage for some fun. Ashley is one smoking hot babe, with an enthusiam for what she does that I have never seen before. This young lady is just amazing to watch on stage, a real jaw dropper. Thanks Ashley for a great night at IDK, I'll definately be back. :D

Richard_Head
08-07-2006, 01:47 PM
So I found myself in Vegas again this past week, needless to say a visit or two to the local SC's was in order, here's a TR from my first night there.

When I decided to go I put out a few feelers to several dancers that I know to see if they would be working, of the three I contacted only one responded back but that was fine as she was the one I really wanted to see the most anyways (I'll call her Ms P). Ms P lives out east but fly's in to Vegas to dance probably 2 weeks out of every month (she also dances out east as well doing some modeling and acting). When I arrived in town I gave her a call and we decided to meet for dinner (no OTC pay for play involved just dinner). Damn this girl is fine, on a 1-10 scale she'd be a solid 9.5, she's very exotic looking, half latino, half asian, about 5'4", long dark hair, tanned skin, slim and toned, she was wearing some nice tight jeans and a small red shirt that showed off that toned stomach oh so well. We had dinner at a restaurant located inside one of the casino's, it was quite the feeling walking through the casino with her on my arm, believe me heads were a turning. I was completely fascinated by our conversation during dinner, the stories she has about the people she has met (athletes, actors, multi-millionaires, rock stars, corporate execs, etc) and the offers she has received while dancing were amazing, I seriously think she should write a book.

After dinner we made plans to meet back up at her club later on that night between 9-10pm. I got there about 9pm and had no problem finding a seat. Several girls stopped by to chat, none of whom wowed me and I just told them I was waiting for somebody else. It was about 9:30pm at this point, still no Ms P when a busty blonde stopped by, I have to give her credit she had some good game, I'm guessing she was in her mid 30's, she told me that she had been dancing in Vegas for about 12 years now and had worked at several different clubs, she seemed to have become a bit hardened and jaded about it all but also had a very outgoing fun personality (and a still very well maintained body). She told me she had been working all day and wanted to do just one more dance before leaving (she was doing the 2-10 shift), I gave it some thought, as I was thinking it over she grabbed my crotch and started rubbing then commented on how I should have worn shorts, as I said she had some good game, obviously I agreed to the dance, not too surprisingly it was very good, very handsy, lots of stick shifting involved, as she was dancing she again commented on how she wished I was wearing shorts, at one point she scolded me for not having my erection properly positioned and told me to go ahead and adjust (right there in the main section of the room with lots of passerby's and bouncers), LOL I discretly readjusted and she seemed pleased. When the song ended she said she'd continue if I wished, which I obviously did. Second song starts and she is sticking her nipples in my mouth, she seemed a bit surprised when I seemed a bit reluctant to feed away (come on, she'd been there all day, how many mouth's do you think had been there already?), anyways she assured me that I had nothing to worry about, she said she was a bit obsessive about cleanliness and assured me that she was constantly cleaning herself up, she even proceeded to produce some wet-naps and lotion from out of her purse to prove her point (see what I mean about good game?). When the song ended she thanked me and urged me to stop back in the following afternoon and then proceeded to tell me what I could expect if I showed up while wearing my shorts (do I need to spell this out any more? shorts, lotion, wet-naps), but I digress, that's another story.

Okay, back to my night, it was maybe 10pm by this time and I decided to go look for Ms P, I stopped over by the DJ stand to scope out the room, I still didn't see her when another dancer stopped by to hustle up some business, when I told her I was waiting for another dancer she asked who it was, I told her and she proceeded to ask the DJ if she was in yet, she was, the dancer then asked if I wanted her paged, I did and the DJ proceeded to page her and she was over in no time. She looked amazing again, now in a short tight white dress. It was getting crowded and we decided on the VIP room to start things out, $200 for half an hour plus a two drink minimum (@ $12/each), it wasn't crowded at all back there yet so we had our pick of spots. We got our drinks, she stripped down to a white g-string and then proceeded with the dancing, hands were roaming everywhere (mutually I might add), there was a little bit of DFK involved, throw in some interesting conversation here and there and it was a highly enjoyable experience. When the half hour ended I decided on another 1/2 hour, more of the same, this girl was good, she knew exactly how to play me. After the dances ended we headed out to the main floor, I assumed that was the end of it but she wanted to sit for awhile further, so we found a spot, she sat on my lap and we talked for maybe another 45 minutes to an hour. I've never been one to be looking for GFE while at the SC but this girl was certainly changing my mind on that. She finally got called to the stage, she was damn good there too, I moved up and slipped her a $20 and told her I was heading out, she told me to call her (much to the amazement of the PL next to me who was waiting for some attention), and I was off. I love Vegas!!!

CalifSCVisitor65
08-07-2006, 08:14 PM
nice report.

fishnet
08-08-2006, 08:19 PM
Thanks for a great report RH. Gawd, I'm glad this thread hasn't died!!!;D

FBR
08-08-2006, 08:25 PM
its still popular as hell ;D

FBR

mr_punk
08-08-2006, 10:11 PM
I gave it some thought, as I was thinking it over she grabbed my crotch and started rubbing then commented on how I should have worn shortsLOL...i recommend that you buy them slightly oversized with a wide pant leg. oh yeah, don't bother with underwear.

as she was dancing she again commented on how she wished I was wearing shorts, at one point she scolded me for not having my erection properly positioned and told me to go ahead and adjustsee? now, if you had been wearing shorts. trust me, she would have been doing the "adjusting".

anyways she assured me that I had nothing to worry about, she said she was a bit obsessive about cleanliness and assured me that she was constantly cleaning herself up, she even proceeded to produce some wet-naps and lotion from out of her purse to prove her point (see what I mean about good game?).yeah, she sounds quite friendly. i like her.

Chili Palmer
08-08-2006, 10:15 PM
Great stuff, RH. I'm one of those who think SRLV is lame (especially its VIP mini-cubes), so it's nice to see someone get some real mileage there.

CP

GenWar
08-09-2006, 06:31 PM
Oh yes, I am back. Terrorizing proofreads and grammer experts everywhere. With all do respect to all and shouts to everyone who can do it in one post, what follows is my two nights with Cally. For those that won't make it through this (Hi, Kat!), catch me in chat and I'll give you the three sentence version. For the rest, see you in a couple of hours...

-gen

------------------------------
So this weekend was going to be a big one. After my last visit to the so-called T-dot-O, I knew a repeat would be in order. Too much fun was had (see TRs for said events.) So I choose a date with my trusty dart-board calendar and advertise it to all the wingmen. Head up for a couple of nights in the clubs and maybe take in an afternoon Blue Jays game. Good times. Well, the Wingman had to work, the Mexican bailed last minute for, of all things, to film a music video for a band he is promoting (Go to college and get a real occupation, Mexican.) Even a guy from work who wanted to see the baseball game had to cancel due to personal issues. Meanwhile, one lovely dancer, name of Cally, is laying on the guilt pressure thick about cancelled plans, etc. So I GOTS to go. But with NO wingman? We know Gen is a bit too stupid to be alone in the big city at the mercy of hotties like said Cally. The big week rolls around and I get a text from the wingman trying to convince me to cancel. (He is worried I will try to run it alone.) He points out that the Yankees are in Baltimore...Hrm...Yankees at Camden, visit to the newly crowned ATF, Miss M at her Baltmore club...sounds good. He then sweetened the pot with the offer to see "Vanilla Ice" in York, PA as well. I am ashamed to say for a split second, the allure of Mr. Van Winkle's performance almost overshadowed that of Miss Cally's. Before I feel into complete geekdom abyss (yielding to the errors of a misspent youth in the 90s and visiting Miss M twice in less than a month), I get a random call from Ole' Blue Eyes...aka the Lost Wingman. OBE leads a carefree and happy-go-lucky existence wherein he doesn't make plans more than a week out. I had counted him out when the Wingman told me he didn't want to go. But, lo' and behold, he is in. Mana from heaven and God-based miracles, I have a wingman. It's on.

The drive to Toronto is NOT short, so I convince OBE to get off work early. He drives up from his home out east and we meet up. We run home and drop off his car at my place and take care if a few things before heading out around 2:30 pm. It is a 6 hour drive but between traffic, dinner in Rochester, LONG lines at the border, etc, etc, etc, it is 10 pm before we get to the hotel. Suiting up double time, we are downstairs waiting for a cab in 45 flat. The driver pulls up and we manage to figure out that he is who we called with some communications difficulties. We pile in and I give him the club address. He is confused and asks for a cross street. I verbally shrug and tell him we are going to a club. I manage to communicate the name and he laughs. (Is that a good sign?) He knows where it is and takes us. Pulling up at about 11:23 pm, the driver identifies himself as Mr. K offers us his number and suggests we call for a ride back. We agree absently, observing the gentlemen urinating in the bushes outside the club, two other customers sharing a smoke of something that did not appear to be tobacco, and several others observing us with looks of wonder. OBE is nervous; as I have shared the descriptions of the club I have heard and also shown him the single, horrible review on TUSCL. He is very concerned that this is not a good place to be. The random shipping containers forming the opposite side of the club’s driveway are not filling with additional confidence.

We walk in and look around. It isn't a bad looking place. Large main stage dominating the center of the room with a dj booth on the far side. Tables down the length of the opposite wall and a large bar on the other wall. Tables throughout the middle open area. I grab a quick seat off to the side to make it harder for the entire contents of the bar to stare at me. All 12 of them. OBE sits opposite and I inform him that I am scouting for our seats. I review the bar and calculate the best place to sit. Making a choice, I rise and begin to walk towards it. I almost bump into an adorable blonde waitress. I confirm that my choice is available legitimate seating, excuse us around her and head back to the seats. Sitting down, we are in the far corner of the club, opposite the DJ booth. I sit on the corner seat of the wall-lining-booth and OBE settles to my left. I pass a hand over the table, producing an assortment of mints as though from thin air and scan the club for Cally's tell-tale radiant smile. No such luck. I curse myself for being more than an hour late and settle back. The blonde waitress finds us, introduces herself as Ms. Ju, and takes our order. OBE orders a Labatt's Blue after it becomes quickly clear that he will get none of the usual high-quality, faux-micro-brew "Samuel Adams"/"Guiness" crap that he usually orders. With a nod to the diet I am currently enduring thanks to the backroom conspiracy of my wife and my doctor and their promised rewards of me living past 40, I order a Labatt's Blue Light and a shot of Crown Royal straight up. Miss Ju departs for the bar.

OBE and I watch the stage and are not exactly overwhelmed. The ladies are not, exactly, eye-catching. There are, with some careful scanning, some gems within the rough, but, for the most part, they are average, every-day ladies trying to make a living as dancers. This is not a staffing choice that I personally have found works to maximize the talent in a club. But, given the context, it is fitting. I asked OBE what he thought. He shrugged, "Better than I thought." I laughed. "You must have had a really bad picture in your head." I tell him. He grins and nods. "Yeah, this isn't nearly as bad as I expected." Miss Ju returned with the drinks. "Can you do me a favor?" I ask her. She raises an eyebrow. "Is Miss A working tonight?" Miss A is Cally's stage name. "I can ask for you." Miss Ju tells me. "Thanks, tell her Gen is here." I pull out the wad of ones and peel off a couple which I thrust towards her. She looks at them confused for a split second and then smiles a friendly thanks and takes them.

I look around some more and note the various parties and their dynamic. To our right, there are a couple of guys conversing friendly and loudly with the manager while partaking of what appeared to be Chicken Wings. To our left, a couple of parties of single or pairs of guys are chatting with various dancers. One of them wanders by. I don't remember her clearly and I remember EVERYTHING clearly. My neurologist says it has something to do with being able to process traumatic experiences, but I cannot recall her at all. Anyway, we did not detain her because there would have simply been no point.

It was about this time that we realize that a large green neon Heineken sign directly above our heads was bathing us in unflattering green light. "We need to lose the light," I tell OBE. He looks up and nods. We make a note to ask Miss Ju about it. When she came over, we did. She shook her head, "All the lights are on the same switch." she told us. "There is a switch on the light right there," I say pointing. "Really?" She replies. Placing a foot on the seat next to OBE, she launched up and grabbed the string on the light and pulled. The light went off. When she came back down, we thanked her. I caught her attention again and said, "You forgot to ask about Miss A, didn't you?" I kidded with her. She looked stricken. "I DID forget," she revealed. "I'll do it right now." She left and came back shortly telling me that Miss A was getting ready for her feature dance but she would be with me in a while. As I was thanking her, the DJ came out of the booth, crossed the back of the stage and launched up onto the bench next to OBE, turning on the neon light. "No, no." I tell him. "We turned that off on purpose." "Well, you can't have it off!" he states firmly. Miss Ju objects, telling him she had cleared it. "Well, have you asked Brian? Brian wants the light on." OBE looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Well, can I talk to Brian?" I ask. Miss Ju hears me but rolls her eyes at the DJ, who is now departing, and storms off. I look at OBE and he looks at me. We shrug.

Moments later, another dancer approaches. She is wearing a pink dress with a not-unflattering neckline cut. She introduces herself and tries a little game. We give back flatly and show no energy in our engagement. We do not invite her to sit but we don't kick her to the curb either. She considers this encouraging so she keeps up the banter. I share the story of the light and she commiserates with some negative thoughts on the DJ. Not thinking it through, I let imply that, if she were to get us permission to turn off the light, OBE might buy a dance. Well, it doesn’t take Einstein to see how THAT gets misinterpreted. Offended, she extricates herself as quickly as is polite and shows us her back. I pause a moment to feel bad at being insulting before recalling that I wasn’t TOO interested in giving her the time of day in the first place. She wasn’t the worst, but visions of Cally are dancing in my head and there is not much that can compare with that.

Shortly thereafter, Miss Ju returns and turns off the light again. The blessed darkness envelopes us in comfortable anonymity. “Brian is ok with it?” I ask, wanting to make sure she is ok. She rolls her eyes at the DJ and notes that, “He didn’t give a crap.” The clear implication is that “Brian” was actually somewhat annoyed that such a minor decision was brought to his level of management. I thank her and slip her the Laurier (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilfrid_Laurier) that I had palmed in anticipation of the moment. She smiles and makes it disappear as OBE is still struggling to get his wallet from his pants. We enjoy the view of her departure as he comments absently that he was gonna tip but I was too quick. I am not sympathetic.

(cont.)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 06:33 PM
We relax shortly and I am scanning the room like KITT on full sensor mode, looking for Cally. When I am about out of hope and desperately lamenting the stupid Toronto anti-smoking laws, she appears, wearing a faux police officer’s uniform. “There you are,” she exclaims. “Here I am,” I reply, my usual razor-sharp wit fully intact. “I had thought you stood me up.” She mock chastised me with a quick peck on the cheek. “You know me better than that,” I reply, grinning in spite of myself. God gives us a few perks in this life and a beautiful woman being happy to see you is definitely one of them. She tells me how she looked for me at the earlier show and I explain the delays in our trip and our inexcusable tardiness. She shrugs it off and says good-naturedly that I will get to see this one. I agree and she reluctantly departs to perform on stage as the club’s feature entertainer. (The DJ has been ineptly teasing us with her show for the entire hour we have been there.)

She does a four song set. I move to the stage to sit, leaving OBE with the table. There is one bearded guy across the stage to my left and four wizened Canadian dudes on the far side. There is also a table of black dudes back from the stage and about 6-8 scattered parties through the club, utterly quiet. She comes out to some fast paced classic rock and does some energetic stage work. She is good on stage, attentive to the crowd (even though most aren’t attentive back) and engaging. She doesn’t have the widest variety of moves but she has the basics down and does them with energy and passion. She also manages to draw you into a bit of burlesque nostalgia with a staged removal of items at strategic times. Too often today, clubs either have the lady strip right down to go on stage or has a set pattern of remove this for this stage and that for the stage after that. I reach in my pocket and peel off Mr. Laurier’s bald scowl every song to give her a little something for her efforts. No one else tips or even attempts it. In fact, the old dudes might actually be dead for all the energy they are displaying.

Second song (a Rob Zombie tune) removes the pants of the outfit and the third (Bawitdaba WITHOUT the intro. Ugh.) removes the top (Boobies!). The final song is some ultralong mix of random older rock tune designed to give her time to really play the crowd and she tries. She has a special g-string on that we have the opportunity to earn with our praise. The old dudes are mannequins and I am the suave, ultracool American, so she gets no noise from us. The black dudes at the table make a half hearted attempt at making some noise. Finally, the bearded dude settles it with a Canadian Tip. (A Canadian tip is this extremely uncouth (IMHO) maneuver wherein you get on stage with the dancer, lie down flat on your back and place some money (in this case, a Liz (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadian_twenty-dollar_bill)) on your person (in this case, on his face.) The dancer then uses some unique and opaquely sexual way to remove the money from you.) Cally enjoyed this, as she managed to remove the bill with the one area of the feminine anatomy that I personally had at the bottom of the list of potential prehensile parts. She played with him a little more while he was up there, before excusing him back to his seat. She pandered to the crowd a bit more but no one was having it. So she bestowed the thong of honor on the one dude who spent (`sides me.) As she left the stage, she shrugged and stated that she didn’t think Mrs. Gen would have welcomed my ownership of the object. I assured her that, as lovely a token as it was, I was, indeed, not in the market. The crowd managed some half hearted applause for her at the DJ’s reminding us that we should. I returned to my seat. OBE was sitting with a blonde dancer who was unattractively thin and small. I raised an eyebrow and he just shrugged. So I sat. We sat in silence for a few moments before she wandered off without a word. I asked him about it and he said that he told her he wasn’t interested but she just sat there and wouldn’t leave.

Cally joined us a moment later wrapped in her stage blanket (the one she used to stay off the cold stage during the nude part of her show.) She excused herself to get dressed. I agreed and she wandered off. Of course, I followed her with my eyes. I saw her hook up with the bearded fellow from the stage. They talked briefly and she gave him a hug and a kiss. After their talk, she excused herself from him and headed for the DR. He looked around absently for a second and wandered out the entry way.

OBE expressed that he would have tried the Canadian tip but he had to watch the table. I nodded sagely and agreed that a guard on the table was a good idea. We sat in companionable silence for a bit, trying not to scowl at the poor working girl who tried an approach on is. She forgot to give her name and tried some halfhearted game but the lack of interest on our part was too evident so she bailed to save us all the discomfort. I know I sound like mr_punk and I am ashamed. I am known for giving almost any girl a chance but these girls were just…too real. When you are there for fantasy, reality just doesn’t cut it.

Soon Cally was back in full, lovely, entertaining form. We chatted for a while on various topics, catching up on misc things. I introduce her to OBE and she made friends with her usual ease. We complained about the Mexican and his absence. She expressed that she had been looking forward to seeing him. OBE and I had no sympathy for his missing ass. We gave her more details on why we had been late. She noted that she had forgotten to put on underwear. As I said, it was a fun, engaging talk. Miss Ju came by. She was clarifying the drink I had ordered for Cally. Did I want that as a drink or a shot? I looked at Cally who confirmed it was to be a drink and Miss Ju nodded and retreated.

Cally remembered to give me an ask and I confirmed that she had indeed earned the right. However, after she got the yes, we didn’t leave, just kept on talking. She was probably waiting for the drink. She subtly got around to the topic of the next night, asking what my plans were. I was vague and noncommittal, trying to remain in the comfortable vicinity of Rule #4. She nailed me down to the vague possibility that we might go somewhere else and she pouted an adorable pout. Then she had an idea. “What if I could get Jenny to work here tomorrow night?” I replied quickly, “Well, I don’t know if we would be up for…wait, wha-whoa, what??!?” She grinned evilly at me. I pressed the issue…”Could you seriously do that?” She shrugged. “I can ask. I don’t know if she would, but I could sure ask.” I grinned. “I’d like that very much.” I told her.

We talked a bit longer before she announced that we were going into the VIP area. “We are?” I asked, mock confused. “Yes,” she replied. “And you don’t have a choice.” She led me into the back and selected a seat, reclining into a fully relaxed position to wait for the song switch over. We chatted a bit more and then, on the next song, she began the dancing.

If you have never gotten a dance from Cally, you should. It isn’t just that she has, like, a flawless body or easily the most beautiful natural breasts you have ever seen. It isn’t just that this is Toronto, where mileage is more plentiful than at a Toyota Hybrid convention. It isn’t even the way she takes such pride in her work as to make sure you are feeling good and enjoying whatever she is doing. No, the thing with Cally is, she really seems to genuinely be enjoying it. She loves her body and she likes giving lap dances to losers like me. Not just getting off on the reaction she can get but genuinely enjoying the process. That, or she is an insanely good actress. Either way, it is a treat.


(cont)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 06:36 PM
Mindful of my general policy of 2 at a time, I limited myself to only 5. Truthfully, I don’t think I would have stopped if Rule #9 hadn’t floated through my mind. Sometimes, I wish I were smarter. If I had gone alone, I could have gone all night J Still, Gen without a wingman is a very stupid entity indeed. Price your pay and all that…So I reluctantly called things to a halt. She thanked me (I always find it inverse that dancers thank US after lapdances) as I found the appropriate portrait of Sir Robert Borden (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadian_hundred-dollar_bill). She then led me back to my seat. As I sat, she settled next to OBE and began to throw a little game his way. Her stripper sense told her it wouldn’t take much and moments later they were walking back towards VIP. I sat back and sipped Crown for a few moments.

I looked around and scanned the room for a bit, mistakenly making eye contact with a dancer, who took the opportunity to stop by. “Are you ready?” she asked me. “Ready for what?” I replied.

Her> “Does it matter?”
Me> “Umm…yeah…”
Her> “Why?”
Me> “Well, how can I be ready for something if I don’t know what it is?”
Her> “You could be ready for anything.”
Me> “I’m not.”
Her> “You’re not ready for anything?”
Me> “No. I might be ready for something but I am definitely not ready for anything.”
Her>”Why are guys never ready?”
Me> “Cuz we don’t know what we are supposed to be ready for!”
Her>”You could just say you are ready…”
Me>”Why would I do that?”
Her>”Just to surprise me. I mean, you could push me over with a feather if you said that. I would like faint.”
Me>”…”
Her>”They’d call the ambulance and accuse you of hurting me and you’d just be like, ‘All I said was, ‘I’m ready.’’”
Me>”Hrm…well I’m not.”
Her>”Not what?”
Me> “Not ready.”
Her> *rolling her eyes* “How about a dance?”
Me> “No thanks.”
Her> “Why not?”
Me> “I just came back from a few dances and I am a bit scattered.”
Her> “Scattered.”
Me> “You know how it is with a really good lapdance. Your mind is all over the place.”
Her> *assuming I am on drugs* “Uh…yeah. I don’t want no part of that.”
Me> “of what?”
Her> *moving off, eyes askance* “I don’t mess with that stuff.”
Me>”well, if you wanna try, just let me know if you’re ready.”

That was the actual exchange, I shit you not. I could barely contain my mirth.

Soon, OBE and Cally returned. Cally found her seat next to me again and smiled. We resumed our talk, chatting away the night, while drinking and laughing. It was a good time. At one point, the blonde returned to sit next to OBE, offering no comment. Just moving right up to him, hip to hip and staring off into space. Cally leans over to me and says, “Check out this girl’s hustle. It’s hilarious. She just sits there.” I give her a hard time, “Hey! Don’t konck the girls hustle. How do you know that that doesn’t work for her?” Cally smirks and pulls OBE over to whisper that he should just tell the blonde he isn’t interested. “I did!” he replied in a too-loud stage whisper. We sit in silence for a bit before she wanders off and then laugh heartily about it.

At this point, the waitress brings over my tab as the DJ begins to put chairs up on tables. My total bill is like $36, which is way low. I raise my eyebrow at Miss Ju. She grins and says, “The last shot is on me.” I shrug and mark down a $24 tip. Cally cranes her neck to look at my tip level so I pull it up and show her. “Not good enough?” I ask, kidding around. “I think you should add a six.” I frown. “Over here?” I say, sketching a 6 to the left of the tip, making it $624? “No…” Cally says, trying to show me what she means. It was at this point that I realized I was drunk, because I could not follow her at all. I handed it back to Miss Ju and said, “you tell me if it is ok.” “I’m sure it’s just fine…” she noted, without even looking at it. Now, THAT’s class. We thanked her and she moved off to work the clean up with the other staff.

Well, the music had ended and there was a bouncer wandering around, trying to be inconspicuous. We chatted some more, me trying not to drool of the possibility that Jenny might join us the next evening. Cally was clear that she could make no promises but she would see what she could do. I agreed and thanked her. When the bouncer asked us to “drink faster, please” we got up and started to wander towards the door. Cally retrieved her cell phone and loaned it to me so I could call Mr. K. He responds that he will be right over in a language that I do not understand. We say our good nights and head outside. There are a large number of men loitering outside the club. Rather than chill in the dark area and intimidate the departing ladies like everyone else, I head for the front of the club and out to the street to wait for Mr. K.

As me and OBE stand around, he spots Miss Ju coming out of the club. He turns and calls to her. She looks up, starts and quickens her pace to her car. “I should ask if she is working tomorrow night…” he notes and starts to move towards her. “No!” I call after him and stop him. He yells over that we might be back. She politely confirms that she will be in but she will be working the bar. He nods and she departs, wishing us a good night from her car window. Mr. K arrives shortly thereafter and we pile in and head back to the hotel.


fin.

Cally
08-09-2006, 06:54 PM
Wahooo!! Now we need Saturday damnit!!! I WANT SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!

And guys the girl whos hustle is just sitting there without saying a word... if one could only see her.. her face looks like shes had a stroke.. shes so skinny you can count every single bone in her body and umm... she hardly speaks english...

newbler
08-09-2006, 07:36 PM
Wahooo!! Now we need Saturday damnit!!! I WANT SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!

And guys the girl whos hustle is just sitting there without saying a word... if one could only see her.. her face looks like shes had a stroke.. shes so skinny you can count every single bone in her body and umm... she hardly speaks english...

hopefully not a member of SW either or u might get ur butt kicked :O lol j/k

GenWar
08-09-2006, 08:34 PM
OK...Saturday is here...but I MUST preface it that I feel it needs at least 2 more proofreads. I should wait until tomorrow, read it again with fresh eyes, to get it perfect. I also feel it needs some more details around the second feature show...still, it is hard to resist the demand of one's "fans", especially for an attention junkie like myself. :) So, here it is...in all it's "needs editing" glory...JayZeno, forgive me...

-gen

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I awake the next afternoon to OBE’s voice. “It is almost 1 pm, I am starting to get hungry.” I peel open one eye and shake my head experimentally. Not feeling TOO bad, I drag myself out of bed and through the shower. Shortly thereafter, I am in the local Perkins having a fruit cup and a cheeseless Egg Beaters omelette. Damn diet. During breakfast, I send Cally a text. “Thanks for a wonderful night. Any word from Jenny?” I get back, “Yeah…good time. Still waiting for a PM from her.”

After breakfast, we wander over to a local mall. I wanna buy a baseball hat for the game, as the sun is shining and I don’t like to sit in a stadium in the sun without a hat. I don’t think the only hat I brought (a blue and white NY Yankees hat) is going to be very welcome in Rogers Centre. Finding none, we accept advice about a shop downtown that is sure to have what we need. As the guy gives us directions, my phone chirps with a text. “Jenny is coming.” I quickly key in a reply, “I love you. And Not in a creepy Rule-#2-violating sort of way.”

Pointing Sheila downtown, we find ourselves in miles of traffic on the Gardiner Expressway. Wow…these people are REALLY into baseball. However, the traffic ends several kilometers BEFORE the stadium, telling me that that isn’t it. There appears to be some sort of random festival along the waterfront. We negotiate the traffic as best we can and head downtown. I had given up on the hat but there was a nice long line at the stadium exit as well, so I decide to go ahead and drive up Yonge street, looking for this sports store. Traffic there is horrible as well, so, after 15 minutes of sitting, I truly give up and turn around BACK towards the stadium. By the time we arrived, we had no choice but to park at the hyperexpensive stadium garage. Heading inside, what do I find but Jays hats? I even manage to scare up one in my size for less than $50. Good deal.

We find the seats and enjoy the game. Popcorn, beer, hot dogs, beer and more beer. The jays featured a horrible pitcher and an even worse right fielder so we got to do some armchair managing and humorous complaining to compliment the White Sox’s decent performance. We left about the middle of the 9th inning to beat the traffic and sveltely wormed our way back to the hotel. After showering again (it was HOT out there) and suiting up, we wandered outside to a restaurant called The Keg in the hotel parking lot. Decent food…I had a filet (NOT a strip or even the Seafood Newburgh Sirloin) and a dry backed potato (NOT garlic roasted mashed) and a salad (NOT garlic bread like OBE). Damn diet. I also had a Crown that had something called “Keg Sized” done to it. It was huge and therefore awesome! J After dinner, we phoned up Mr. K and arrived at the club by 10:11 pm.

We wander in again, bypassing what I now recognize as constant door loungers. I have never seen a club where so many people are just hanging outside. I realize belatedly that they must be smokers. They can no longer smoke inside and they are still getting used to it. Inside the club, I glace over at the bar and notice Miss Ju is indeed working. I choose to interpret this as a good omen and smile to myself. “Usual seats?” OBE asks. I nod assent, somewhat troubled that I now have a “usual” in this club. As we mount the small step and turn to the rear of the club, I notice Jenny lounging in a chair next to a random fucko, giving him the full workover. His eyes are glazed and he looks somewhat stunned. I have noticed that she has that effect on guys, especially weak-willed ones. She glances up at me as I past and I give her a wink but I think it is too dark for her to notice.

OBE leads us to the back corner and takes his seat. I pass him to take mine and reach up to switch off the Heineken sign. “Hey, you have to leave that on!” the DJ squawks at us from his perch. I ignore him. We stretch out as a waitress approaches. I try not to glance at Jenny and turn my attention to her. “What can I get ya?” she asks, clearly not pleased about something. I raise an eyebrow and glance at OBE. “The DJ may be a little peeved at us for turning off the light.” I point out. She shrugs, the very picture of lack of caring. “Oh well…fuck em.” I laugh out loud and begin my exaggerated ordering process, which seems to irritate her but, oh well, I’m the customer. She notes our drinks mentally and moves off. She is not as cute as Miss Ju, but I am fascinated by her. I resolve to make her my project of the evening. I will cheer her up.

I scan the crowd for some sign of Cally but I find none. The dancer on stage is another one of the sub-par ladies from yesterevening and the DJ indicates that Cally is coming up soon. The waitress returns with our drinks and I give her a big smile. She tries not to smile back and mostly succeeds. I ask her name and she introduces herself as Miss Ja. OBE tries to give her a card for the tab but she waves it back at him and asks, “You aren’t going to run out on me, are you?” It isn’t flirtatious, simply fact. He shakes his head, more in wonder at her not taking the card than as an answer. She shrugs, scowls and wanders off, leaving us alone and dumbfounded. “That’s weird.” I comment. OBE nods agreement.

We are not left to stew long before Cally arrives. She grins widely at me and comes over for an appropriate welcome. OBE comments to her, “Do you have any OTHER feature outfits?” She is wearing the same policewoman uniform of the previous night. “Sure,” she says. “You should have been here for the 8:30 pm show…I wore the schoolgirl outfit then.” “Wha-what? 8:30 show?!??” I exclaim. “you didn’t mention no 8:30 show.” “Yes, I did,” she argues. OBE backs me up, “No! you didn’t. We would have been here for an 8:30 school girl show!” I nod agreement with his sentiment. She shrugs, “Well, you missed it.” She teases. “And, now, I have to go on…” she adds with a smile, sauntering off in the general direction of the stage entrance.

The DJ starts up with the announcements, introducing Cally with her numerous titles and accolades. She strides confidently out onto the stage and begins the same routine from the previous night. Somehow, I don’t feel sick of it, though J I move to go to the stage when OBE says, “No one needs to guard the table, eh?” I turn and look at him…”umm…what about the cell phones…?” I ask. “They’ll be fine.” He assures me. I shrug and we both move down to the stage. Cally is back in fine crowd manipulation form. The stage has a group of 3 guys, obviously there to party, and myself with OBE. Not a steller crowd. The DJ does just a little bit of encouraging, and one of the guys gets on stage with a wide grin and a loose demeanor. Cally has to give him a bit more encouragement than should be necessary, to my mind, to get into his appointed position. Perhaps because of this, or maybe it was the plan all along, she pulls out the cuffs and cuffs his arms around the pole. He laughs boisterously at this and I feel a little better as it becomes clear the cuffs will restrain him. (The cuffs actually lack the tensile strength to restrain cabbage.)

Cally begins to “torture” him, a routine that he and his friends find to be hilarious. He punctuates this by humorously refusing to follow Cally’s and the DJ’s instructions. I can’t decide if it is ignorance or malice but he just doesn’t do what they tell him to do. I don’t know why, because it is clear that this is limiting the things Cally can and would do TO him. He doesn’t get it though and keeps resisting her pushes and prods to get him into position. Finally she gives up and pulls the cuffs of him. He struggles to his feet, laughing all the while, probably not even realizing he has missed out on the fun. Cally tries to give him a quick hug, to signal that the party is over, but he misses the body language so it is an awkward embrace, which he tries to carry on too long (who can blame him?) Finally, she has to resort to bodily removing him from the stage.

(cont.)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 08:37 PM
The DJ continues the music and tries to erase the momentary awkwardness of the clueless dude with some more banter. He starts encouraging someone else to take the stage. A brief look of exasperation crosses Cally’s face but she erases it expertly. Then, her eyes light up. I follow her gaze and see that Jenny has seated herself to the stage, across from me and OBE, next to the clueless guy’s friend. The friend begins attempting to encourage Jenny to the stage but she shakes her head. He pushes more and I hear her object, “I don’t have any money.” I am half up to go give her some cash when Cally leans over and begins to lay on the pressure as well. I sit back down, figuring that this is well in hand. Sure enough, between the friend and Cally and the clueless guy himself jumping in, Jenny is soon crawling onto the stage. The DJ is bantering for all he is worth (not much!) to try and build this into something but still, most of the customers are barely watching. Cally pushed Jenny to the floor and flattened her back and legs. Spreading her legs, Cally crawled between them and buried her face. Jenny begins to giggle loudly and soon in convulsing so hard in silent laughter that Cally cannot maintain her position. So Cally, backs off and decides to try a different tact. As the 5 or 6 of us in the audience scream and cheer, Cally tries crawling down Jenny’s body from the top, ending in a 69 position. This works momentarily but the giggles start up again and Cally is distracted by the motion. Looking up with an evil grin, Cally decides to let her of the hook and frees her from the stage. Jenny crawls away to the edge, a big smile on her face and still giggling slightly. (One other interesting thing that happened was that, while Cally and Jenny were going at it, directly above them, in my view, was another dancer sitting at the bar, playing Mahjongg on one of those little tv bar machines. I lean over and comment to OBE about the strangeness of it all…two lovely ladies enjoying each other’s attentions on stage whilst another is knocking down tiles in quick succession.)

Once on the floor, Jenny skirts the stage and sits next to me, to my left. I smile broadly at her and welcome her as best I can. I introduce her to OBE, who shakes her hand formally. I can tell he is smitten; like me, he has an affinity for Jenny’s look in a woman, and Jenny carries it better than most. The DJ begins the solicitation again, imploring someone to get on stage with Cally. The clueless guys OTHER friend, an older gentlemen, declares loudly that what he wants to see is “THAT GUY!” on stage, and he points at me?!!!? WTF? I smile what I consider to be a polite smirk and shake my head emphatically. The guy screams again that he wants me on stage. The DJ banters with him, making the obvious homosexual reference, as well as implying that my nationality might play a role. He neither approves nor denies this reasoning, simply demands again that I be brought to the stage. Finally, the DJ informs him that I am a regular and am well known for not doing such things. This surprises me as much as the guy’s vehemence, as this is only my second night in the club. In any event, I am NOT going on stage, so I shrug off all of it. When it becomes clear that she has no more takers, Cally wraps up the show and the DJ calls another dancer to the stage. As soon as it is clear this is happening, I look at Jenny and OBE and nod. We quit the stage for the table, with me wondering if my cell phone will be there when I get there.

I approach the table first and sit in the corner seat that I have come to call my own. Jenny is next and she sits to my left, right in OBE’s seat. He moves to sit and comes up short. I am torn as to how to bring this up, so I manage an “Um…” before she reads the scenario and realizes what is going down. She settles the issue but moving over closer to me, freeing her seat for him to take. So, I have her to my immediate left and him to her left, with the table in front of us. I quickly rub my hand over the bag containing the cell phones and extra mints, confirming that the phones are, indeed, still present. I take a sip of my Crown and we begin with the small talk, of which Jenny is an absolute master. It is little wonder she charms the pants off the custys on a regular basis; her conversation alone is worth the trip. After a moment or two, Cally arrives, wrapped in her blanket. She grins at us and notes the need to get dressed. We smile and nod politely and she moves off toward the DR. She gets about ¼ of the way there before she stops to talk to a dark skinned customer in casual attire. He is obviously a regular based on the way she greets him and they chat warmly.

I stop staring and turn back to Jenny, so I am a little surprised when I hear her again. I look up and she is back, still in the blanket, with the other custy. She introduces him as Mr. A and says that he will be “joining the party.” (She also notes that he is American, a statement intended to build on the comfort level, I imagine. Canadians are so cute.) I take a split second of analysis on this development and realize that I have no jealousy on this at all and am perfectly fine with it. More the merrier and all. I do note that I think I might be a bit weird in this regard and wonder if the average custy would welcome a random addition. I look over at OBE who sticks out his lip in his trademark look that says, “Whatever.” (OBE’s motto in life is, “It’s not a big deal.” He basically adopts that attitude about anything and everything.) I use the rest of that second to wonder if Cally has me figured out or if she was just rolling the dice. Finally, I look at the dude and he has a very uncertain look his face, like he wasn’t sure if this was the best idea. So, I stick out my hand and introduce myself, greeting him and encouraging him to sit. As he grabs bench to my right, I see Cally give a little nod of approval, almost unconsciously, and realized I score a point. I ask where in America Mr. A is from and he mentions a place I lived years ago. So I am able to immediately build some rapport talking about this locale and Cally dashes off to get changed, leaving us to chat.

We continue with the conversation for a few more moments, watching the stage and generally talking about nothing. Some comments on the boards, the baseball game, general topics like that. Soon, Cally returns and rejoins us. She moves to sit to the right of Mr. A, which creates an awkward moment wherein he needs to move closer to me but isn’t entirely comfortable doing so. Cally reads this and switches tactics, pushing him away from me to make room to sit between us. She declares, “I am going to sit here because Gen needs to be between two beautiful women.” My eyebrows go up in mute agreement. Out of the corner of my eye, I see OBE nod and I shrug, wondering how I rate. Cally settles herself without complaints from anyone and the conversation begins anew.

After we have all been talking a bit, I hear OBE say to Jenny, “Does anyone ever call you Six?” My mind pounces on the random pop culture reference. For a second or two, I draw a blank and then the reference clicks into place. On the TV show, “Blossom (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101050/)”, the main character had a best friend named “Six” who spoke very quickly. Jenny also speaks quickly, hence the reference. I look at Jenny but it is clear she doesn’t get the reference. I look over at OBE and exclaim, “Dude! I cannot believe you just busted out the Blossom reference.” He grins, “What? It fits! Six was like the BEST part of that show!” “No way,” I disagree, “JOEY was the best part of that show.” He laughs and then does his Joey impression, “Whoa!” So, then, I have to do mine, “Whoa!” I must admit that his is much better. Meanwhile, Jenny is looking at us as if we just sprouted antlers. OBE tries to explain but she just shrugs, having never seen the show.

Cally asks if I have my cards on me. I do and she asks for one so she can show Mr. A the rules. I give her one and she hands it over to him and makes sure he reads them. He looks them over, chuckling at the appropriate parts and nodding sagely at other parts. Cally reads a long for a bit and they have a short discussion over them. He asks why I created them and what made me come up with them. I just shrug so Cally says, “He takes his clubbing very, very seriously.” I just chuckle at that.

Miss Ja comes by a bit after that. She looks at me and frowns again, all trace of whatever ground I had gained on her mood gone like ice on a sunny day. She frowns at me and ask, “Do you guys need anything to drink?” We all look at each other for a moment, as though it is a particularly hard question. She shrugs and turns to move off, but I call her back. There is some consultation and we manage to order another beer for OBE, a vodka and soda for Jenny, Another crown, another Hypnotiq and another beer for me, a sex-on-the-beach for Cally and whatever Mr. A is having. Mr. A demurs, saying he is fine with whatever mixed drink he is sipping. Miss Ja nods and I give her an exaggerated smile and a loud, “THANK YOU!” She kinda half rolls her eyes and wanders off. I frown at her departure and comment to the group, “I am going to have to work harder. She does NOT think I am cute, at all!” which gets me a polite chuckle from the group.

(cont.)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 08:39 PM
So, Jenny has this purse, which is basically a stuffed bull, though it looks like a cow with horns. (Well, isn’t that what a bull is?) At some point, via some methodology, the cow ends up in OBE’s lap. “What are you doing with that cow?” I ask him with a laugh. He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t comment. We laugh at him and Jenny grabs it from him but Cally reaches across my lap and grabs it from Jenny. She places it firmly between her legs, facing out, which causes all of us to laugh and her to turn it around and face it in. This elicits another laugh as she mimes enjoying the cow’s attentions. Finally, she gives it back to Jenny, who takes it with a sly look and subtly sniffs the cow’s nose before returning it innocently to her lap. Once again, I am struck speechless.

So we basically sat there for about 45 minutes basically getting drunk and screwing around. We chatted about this, that and the other thing, and most of the conversation was so fast paced and obtuse that I cannot recall all of it. Topics I remember:

Prime Minister Laurier and his visage on the Canadian $5 bill
How attractive Cally found Jenny
Another club that Mr. A went to where Cally had worked
How much Cally wanted to do things to Jenny
How much the DJ sucked and played crappy music
Jenny’s hotness, especially where Cally was concerned
Alcohol and various drinks (Cally ordered us a round of shots; something minty called a “polar bear”) Mr. A didn’t do one. I realize only now, as I write this, that he must have been driving
Jenny’s impending stage performance (Which Cally was VERY interested in)
I do remember, quite vividly and fondly that Cally, on several occasions, would lean over me and avail herself of various of Jenny’s charms, something that would cause Jenny to giggle in the most adorable way. I also remember this interchange:

Gen> Man, this song sucks. This guy is the worst.
OBE> What was this…like 1993?
Gen> 1992.
Cally> 1992? I was in Grade 2.
Gen> Grade 2??? Like second grade?
Cally> Yep.
Gen> So you were born in like, what, 1985?
Cally> 1984.
Gen> You were born after George Orwell’s nightmarish vision of the future (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nineteen_Eighty-Four)?
Cally> *confused* Who’s what?
Gen> *head in hands* I am a dirty old man.
OBE> *raising glass* To dirty old men.
Gen> *toasting* To dirty old men.

At another point, a dancer went on stage. She was tall, maybe 6 feet without her shows, with long, long, long luscious legs incased in thigh-high white tights with frills at the top. She was very thin but there was something about the legs that was doing it for me. After she did a song or two, I excused myself and moved to the stage alone to tip. I put $3 in American ones in my hand and sat the stage. The dancer saw me and smiled but never came over for the tip. After a couple of minutes of sitting there, miss Ja joined me, seating herself on the stage-side table and chatting me up. She smiled, just a little glassy, showing she had a good buzz and asked if things were going well. I confirmed that they were and admired the dancer on stage, whom Miss Ja called and friend and identified as Miss L. I grinned at her and expressed admiration of Miss L which she accepted in proxy for her friend. I asked Miss Ja why she didn’t seem to be having any fun. She chucked and told me about not having to work that night but she got called in involuntarily. She also told me about a toothache she was suffering from. I offered to help but, short of being a dentist, there wasn’t much I could do. After that, Miss L came to the side of the stage and began to chat us up as well. She flirted a bit with me and with Miss Ja and made some jokes. She actually gave us a little bit of decent game but DID NOT offer me the opportunity to give the tip. She just wandered off without so much as a blink. I shrugged and excused myself back to my seat, feeling stupid for no good reason.

After some time, it occurred to us that Jenny had not been called to the stage. Cally was definitely hankering for Jenny to do a stage performance, so, amidst some pressure, Jenny went up and reminded the DJ of her existence. She was assigned to go up for the next set. She returned and we waited until the appropriate time came. She then departed for the stage and we all got up and headed to the stage side seating to cheer her on. I sat in my same seat with Mr. A to my right, Cally to my left and OBE to her left.

Jenny’s stage shows are another treat. She attacks the stage like a woman possessed. It is high energy, exciting, classy and sexy all at the same times, and it is hard to put those things together. She prances out to the center of the stage and swings around the pole on the force of her movement alone. Like Cally, she doesn’t just remove her clothing because it is expected or it is what is done, but she manages to bring some tease to it. Most of the club audience is ignoring her, primarily because that seems to be modus operandi around here. We at the stage are cheering her on and begging for the appropriate revelations at the appropriate time. I am making sure to keep Mr. Laurier in my hand at most every turn and Jenny stops by to collect a couple of them. It is not very long before she gives Cally that special look and Cally scrambles onto the stage with her.

Again, they manage to raise the temperatures in the room with a little miscellaneous playing around. One thing that does strike me is that it is NOT simulated, though they are not doing it in a manner as to clearly demonstrate that it is NOT simulated. Planned or unplanned, this is a surefire methodology, as it lends an air of genuineness to the whole proceedings, which makes it that much hotter. After some time of making Jenny giggle, Cally has to reluctantly depart, to prepare for her next stage show. Jenny finished out the stage show alone but with at least 3 sets of mesmerizedly attentive eyes. She left to our applause and the half hearted clapping of the others in the club. We quit our stage seats and returned to the bench. There us three guys sat alone, as Jenny and Cally were both in the DR.

After a moment, OBE says, “We haven’t said ‘hi’ to Miss Ju.” I nodded and agreed. So, we excused ourselves from Mr. A and headed up to the bar. Miss Ju remembered us and was happy to see us, smiling an absolutely lovely smile at our approach. We chatted her up, friendly conversation and commiserating on the fun that was had last night. I gave her a hard time about refusing to drink with me the previous night and she agreed to have a shot with me. We laughed about the Hypnotiq and Courvoisier. She was unfamiliar with Courvoisier, so we agreed to do a shot of that. She poured three up when OBE noted that we should get Miss Ja so it could be on the tab. I changed the order and we dragged Miss Ja over to the bar, insisting that she drink with us. “What are we drinking?” she asked. I grinned, “Courvoisier.” She shook her head and said, “Are you trying to get me drunk?” I confirmed that I was and told her we would be buying her drinks “until you forget about that tooth.” She laughed and we did the shot. Both women shuddered and even OBE had to squint a bit to keep it in line. As he and Miss Ju had never had the stuff, I thought they did pretty well. I loved it, of course, but I knew what to expect. In any event, the stuff is REALLY not meant to be shot, so it isn’t at its best that way. After the shot, we were laughing about it when they called Cally to the stage for the 12:30 am performance. OBE and I excused ourselves and made our way back to the stage.

Cally’s last show of the night featured her in a race car driver’s outfit. It was shiny, pink and either rubber or latex. Very tight and VERY hot. She strutted around the stage to various appropriate songs, giving a lot of energy and having a lot of fun. Again, she would try and work the crowd but the enthusiasm just wasn’t there L. We tried to give her as much attention as possible. By this time, I was getting on in the intoxicated department but I remembered to produce tips, which she gamely relieved me of at every available turn. Invariably, Jenny was interactively involved in the fun, starting out with some brief activities while she was still in her stage-side seat but eventually she made it on stage as well.


I tell you, I am being specifically vague here. I can’t figure out a way to write it without cheapening it, somehow. Everytime I give specifics, it feels wrong. I guess I haven’t burned all the prude out of me just yet. In any case, we’ve all seen girl on girl, so you can use your imaginations here. At this point, jenny’s giggling had mostly subsided and she seemed to be enjoying the interaction more.

(cont.)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 08:42 PM
In any event, after an enjoyable 4 song set, Cally departed the stage and was replaced by a MUCH less attractive dancer. I tossed a couple of bucks on stage to facilitate my departure and headed back to the seats. Jenny and OBE stayed at the stage but Mr. A joined me shortly thereafter. Eventually, they too joined us and OBE related that the money I left eventually ended up with the waitress because the dancer didn’t understand it was there for her. Canada! Shortly, thereafter, Cally returned to the table. She sat briefly before announcing that her and Jenny were taking Mr. A back to the VIP room for some fun. OBE and I grinned and wished them well, as they departed together. OBE and I sat there and caught up on some discussions and he share some feedback with me. I found myself lonely so I asked Miss Ja to look up Miss L for me. That was pointless, as Miss L was busy doing nothing, as near as I could tell, but never made it over. After 7 songs (not that I was counting or nothing), I decided to close my eyes, to rest my contacts when I heard Mr. A’s voice, “You are gonna wake up right now.” I open my eyes and the three of them have returned. Jenny is blushing slightly, Mr. A is grinning and Cally is verbally expressing her pride at the enjoyment she has caused Jenny. With numbers. This only makes Jenny blush deepen which tickles Cally even more. They resume the original seating and Cally asks who is next, clearly meaning me. I look at OBE and realize I am close to violating rule #9.

I give back some excuses, indicating that we should split up, with OBE and I each taking one of them back. It is about 1:30 am and the club closes at 2 am. I don’t want to leave OBE hanging out alone for another half hour and then basically be frustrated for the trip. Cally is clearly not keen on this idea and Mr. A is not helping when he says, “No, dude. You gotta take them both back. Trust me.” I look at OBE and he looks at me. Finally, he says, “I’ll go.” I smirk and say, “No, you bastard, I’m going…I was just trying to be nice.” He half-smiles and tells me to be nice by remembering the time. I take a deep breath, mentally tighten my belt and agree that we will be back in plenty of time for sharing. Cally hops up, takes Jenny’s hand and off we go.

Back in VIP, they have a couch already picked out. It is behind an opaque screen and two large potted plants and has no clear view to/from the rest of the room. They lead me into it and I plop down on the leather love seat. They look at me, then each other and ask how they are going to handle it (basically, who is going first?) Cally magnanimously offers to let Jenny rest and settles herself on my lap. Jenny grins down at us and…

FTB.

(you know what, I gotta keep some of this for myself. But, so as to not be totally selfish, I’ll give you some quotes you might have heard, had you been close enough to hear. I won’t attribute the quotes, but you can probably figure out which of them is my dumb-ass babbling.)

I don’t think I will ever look at Bruce Springsteen the same way again.
If that is hurting your hand, I really don’t think you need to restrain yourself. Go ahead and scream.
Kiss me now, while I taste like you.
Oh My God, she just came. Right there. What? Why? Oh, don’t you believe me? Ok, here…
I feel like I need to put my hand here. I don’t think you have quite enough support in that position.
No, I can’t make you cum. If I make you cum, that would be a “sexual act” and we both know that DOESN’T happen in here.
You are both going to burn in pinky hell for this.
Whose turn is it now?
I feel like I should explain why this song is so pivotal in the history of rap music.
You are the best pussy eater, EVER! I can’t believe this is your first time doing this.
After an eternity in which I was, in hindsight, completely superfluous, but enjoying every minute of it, I looked down at Jenny’s wrist draped over Cally’s thigh and read her watch upside down. 1:48 am. I was about to suggest just one more song when, out of nowhere, Miss L walks into the area by dodging the potted plants. “What’s going on in here?” she asks in a mock authoritative tone. Jenny looks at her askance for a second but Cally laughs, which relaxes the tension that I hadn’t realized had formed. Miss L helps herself to a seat across from me on something I hadn’t even seen was there and they begin to chat in low tones. I am not following the conversation, as I figured it didn’t concern me and truthfully, my head was a bit…scattered. I wanted more. A Lot. But time was ticking down and OBE waited patiently, trusting me. *sigh*

I touched each of them on the back and made some noise about OBE waiting. Miss L made some comment about us going back to the seats, so I mentioned that I would be alone and lonely in about 5 minutes and she should seek me out. She caught my eye but her expression was bland. *shrug* The three of us walked out of VIP and I mentioned that this TR would be written. I got verbal approval to not maintain anonymity (Mods: Note this part.) As, we walked out of the VIP into the main club, I could FEEL the weight of the gaze of the rest of the club. I looked around and caught the eyes of several poor saps that longed for the company I shared. They glared at me, as well they should. I shrugged helplessly, unable to summon sympathy for them. They are local and have regular access. I do not share that luxury.

Approaching the seats, I see OBE get a smile on his face. I am jealous. I begin listing off debts that I owe him and declaring them square. Every favor I owed him suddenly disappeared in a moment and I don’t think he cared. They reached out their hands for him and he rose and let himself be led away. I collapsed on the bench next to Mr. A. He grinned at me and I grinned back. “See, I told you.” He noted. I nodded agreement. He then launched into a spirited discussion of my rules and some of my theories. He talked about his relative lack of experience and some of the lessons he had learned in that short time. We talked about how important it is to maintain REAL relationships. He described some of the stereotypical customers he had met, alone and lonely and how he didn’t want to end up in the club looking for human companionship. I nodded sagely and agreed at the wisdom to such a sentiment.

Eventually, the DJ put on a Puddle of Mudd CD and abandoned the booth to begin cleaning tables and stacking chairs. Miss Ja came over and asked for last call. I ordered another beer. Mr. A insisted on buying me another Crown, who am I to argue? Lamenting the lack of Miss L, I asked Miss Ja if I can be taken seriously. She smiled (I had come to realize that she was only happy when the ladies were not around. Odd.) and stated firmly, “No.” I didn’t expect that and asked her what she meant. Pressed, she took issue with my chosen hobby. “I am not one to judge,” she noted. “But if I had the money you do…I wouldn’t spend it…” words failed her.”…here?” I finished for her. She nodded. I shrugged, “It makes me happy.” I told her. She nodded and pulls out a cell phone. Popping it open, she revealed a picture of an adorable little moppet. “This is what makes me happy.” I make polite noises and asked his name. She lit up in that way parents will, and told me some about him. I encouraged her to take care of him but remember that it takes all kinds. She agreed, getting the message, and wandered off to get the drinks.

She returned with the round and the check but OBE wasn’t back. I told her he would return and she agreed. Eventually, after about 8 songs, he did indeed return. His face was flushed a bit but his “it’s no big deal” smile was intact. “Tommy Lee was right.” He stated, amused. “You really are unnecessary.” I chucked. Cally announced that Jenny was going home with her. Jenny grinned as though it was a joke but I didn’t get that vibe from Cally. In fact, she began to verbally work out some of the logistical challenges to such a plan. Mr. A announced his departure and said his goodbyes to us and the ladies. He moved towards the door and the ladies followed up with some statements about street clothes. I offered to share Mr. K with Cally and we agreed to wait. They wandered off to get dressed and we were left to sign the check and finish up the drinks. OBE filled out the tip and I supplemented it with another bill. Miss Ja left very happy and very well taken care of, as well she should have been. The bouncer started to hover in our general vicinity. I joked that he wanted to go home and he mentioned that he still had to do laundry tonight. We started and told him not to mess with the fantasy. Laundry is a buzz kill.

(cont.)

GenWar
08-09-2006, 08:42 PM
I realized that I had only $100 bills left so I wandered to the bar for change. I approached and an old guy was programming the register. I held up the bill and asked him for some change. He eyed me somewhat unpleasantly until Miss Ju wandered over and vouched for us staying, “Leave em alone. They’re good people.” That settled it for the old guy who began joking with us. We discussed the baseball game and the performance of the Blue Jays in general. We were still talking with him when the ladies returned. I had never seen Jenny in normal clothes but, if anything, they did MORE for her. I said something like, “Wow. You clean up nice.” But it sounded amazingly lame. That is the problem with a memory like this…you get to replay the lame lines you utter over and over in your head. We chatted a bit before Jenny said her goodbyes and left for her cab, Cally pouting over her choice to go to her own home. Eventually, we went out to find Mr. K. After some identity confusion (I was drunk and some other dude claimed he was Mr. K.) Luckily, the REAL Mr. K arrived to save the day. I collapsed in the cab. Cally came over and let us know that she was going to wait for a cab the club had called (I suspect the club management didn’t want her leaving with us.) so we sketched a brief goodbye from the back seat of the cab and Mr. K whipped it around and sped us off into the night.

Docido
08-10-2006, 09:10 AM
Thank you Gen! This is one for the ages!

mortalman
08-10-2006, 05:15 PM
Fantastic report GEN

Except for the FTB part, but I can appreciate the need for discretion.

Richard_Head
08-13-2006, 09:27 PM
Here's a little more from my Vegas trip:

Friday night (8/4/06) I went to Sapphires, I really wasn't too impressed by most of the girls, I finally found one really attractive brunette girl and got a couple dances from her on the main floor, seeing as the rest of the girls weren't doing much for me and the dances were good I decided on some VIP time with her ($200 for half and hour + $50 bar tab + tip to waitress + tip to doorman = NOT FUCKING CHEAP). So we get back there and she seems content to just chat away, I finally made it clear that I wasn't back there to chat at those prices. So the dances commence. She was wearing a tight black dress, she looked damn good in it too, but she was really slow at taking it off, she seemed content to just pull it down to her waist (which while exposing her chest still covered a good section of her mid section and ass), when I asked her if she was going to take it off she said "NO", WTF, is that asking too much while in VIP??? Overall a very lackluster experience, too much talk, too little skin, tamer dances in the VIP than on the main floor.

So I head back to the main floor and immediately see another very attractive girl on stage, I sit down, tip her a few bucks, she asked me if I would like dances when she got off stage, I agreed. We find a spot on the main floor, excellent dances, she was very good with her hands;), we decided to move it to the VIP room. So I'm back to the VIP room in no time, they just happen to seat me in the exact same spot, the waitress chuckled and called out "NORM" as she approached. So off we go, straight to the dances this time, again very high mileage, I was liking this girl. The half hour ends and she convinces me to continue for another half hour (which means another $50 bar tab BTW). Before we start she says she needs to use the rest room, who am I to refuse that request? I figured she'd be gone a couple of minutes, nope wrong, it must have been a good 20 minutes of me sitting back there by myself, the waitress seemed a bit confounded and told me she'd try to find her which she apparently did as she returned in short order. She apologized and said she didn't actually go to the bathroom but went to check in with her sister (who also works there) in the dressing room. I was a bit miffed but got over it quickly as she assured me that the time she was away wouldn't count against my half hour VIP time (no shit) and she also seemed to up the mileage a bit to make up for it. Not more than 5 minutes go by and I hear the DJ announce her name (along with several others) and requesting her to report to ROOM #### (I cant' remember the name of it). I assumed she could take a pass on this as she was in the VIP room, or maybe tell the VIP host that she would take care of it when she was out of VIP, but NO she says she has to go when she is called but assured me that she'd be right back. So again, I'm sitting there by myself, in the VIP, after about 20 minutes the waitress returns and asks "what's up" and I tell her I'm no longer interested in continuing with this so-called VIP treatment (which included a good 45 minutes of me sitting by myself in a dark room), she seemed pissed at the dancer too and assured me that it wasn't typical behavior, she urged me to go see the VIP host and explain to him (since the time had already begun). Anyways, as I'm heading up to see the VIP Host the dancer returns and they convince me to continue on (although I really didn't want to at this point). She again seemed really apologetic, said she had to pay her tipout (which she didn't pay when she arrived), but I really wasn't very pleased with her and the 'connection' we had built up had been lost. The dancer was very attractive, the dances were good, but I really didn't feel like I was getting any VIP treatment from her. I was also a bit irked when she asked me to tip her after all this.

At this point I was ready to leave, I had had enough of Sapphires and I headed over to CH2 and had a MUCH better time.

CalifSCVisitor65
08-14-2006, 07:51 PM
Here's a little more from my Vegas trip:

Friday night (8/4/06) I went to Sapphires, I really wasn't too impressed by most of the girls,

Yea they have loads of girls, but it's often to find even 2 or 3 worthy of trying out that's why I don't bother with Sapphires anymore. Besides everyone seems to have their hands out for a tip there.

Richard_Head
08-14-2006, 08:40 PM
Yea they have loads of girls, but it's often to find even 2 or 3 worthy of trying out that's why I don't bother with Sapphires anymore. Besides everyone seems to have their hands out for a tip there.I've had some good times there, it's just become sooo hit and miss.

lunchbox
08-14-2006, 09:38 PM
I can't finish this so I'm just cutting it off. It's old and details are fading anyways. continued from before in 2 parts:

So I had just walked into T's and gotten a real good vibe. I make my way to the back bar and grab a drink. BTW, when I say get a drink, it is always a Grand Marnier on the rocks, unless otherwise specified. I spot Mr. Bill down at the other end of the bar and watch him get approached by a waif blond who just came from the back room wearing a flimsy skirt w/ garters, thigh highs, and a linen shirt that was just a piece of material in front, and some string wrapped across the back; all white, who just came from the back. They talk for about 30 seconds, and she starts making her way to the front room, as she walks past, I turn, get next to her and put my arm around her tiny waist to escort her in that direction, she picks up on it without missing a beat.

BTW - Mr. Bill is just a guy who is always at T's, never seen him in less than a coat and tie, so I felt he deserved a mention.

Miss M. A.

We do the introductions as we are walking towards the booths, but don't find one in the back of the first room, so we end up in the shitty one closest to the front of the stage, keeping our eyes open for something better. She rattles off a couple sentences, and I'm like awesome, I bagged a coke whore on the first try! She asks me what my name was, I tell her, and ask, "What was yours again?" Well it is M. A., but I'm thinking of changing it to <don't remember>, <don't care>, or Solaris. I nod approvingly, but say, I don't think you want to be named after a car. She thinks for a second and said maybe not. For some reason FBR jumped into my head, and I told her maybe try something a little more luxurious and desirable like Escalade. She got a real kick out of this, and did the coke whore giggle. Then she asked me what I thought her name should be, and I said it should be something that would turn heads, like.... like.... (yes I did pause for dramatic effect) Pussy Control. With a name like that EVERYONE is going to want to see who is on stage, this pushed her beyond giggling into full blown laughter, one of her laughs snorted, and I swear to god it snowed for a second.

We spot a booth opening up, and we are sliding into the booth before they are totally out of it. We fill the remainder of the song with some plain vanilla conversation, and she starts to dance the next one. She has A's with cute tanned nips, but is not a total hard body, she felt quite interesting to be honest. The dances themselves were totally tease oriented and absolute rubbish. She would rub my cock with every part of her leg, but never grind on me , she would just kind of hover like I was a public toilet instead. I ended up getting 5 total dances, at the end of which, I was done with her, and looking for a bit more.

It was just passed 12:30 when I got back to the back bar for another drink. I thought, wow, must have been short songs, because it seemed like twice as long. Maybe I got high from being so close to her and it only seemed that way, who knows. I take up position at the end of the buffet line windows, tipping the stage and watching the girls walk out of the dressing room. Some jerk off took my leaning spot while I was tipping the stage, so I reposition by the naked Zeus/mirror wall facing the stage so the dancers are now going into the dressing room behind me (not as good if you are trying to find a stripper that suits you).

lunchbox
08-14-2006, 09:39 PM
Miss A

It's about 1 A.M. now, and I'm freshening up my drink. I spot Miss A walking out of the dressing room. She looks down along the bar, turns, and walks into the front room. Her ass is absolutely radiant. All I can think is, I hope she comes back this way... She's gone for about 20 seconds and comes back walking towards the back room. She isn't looking towards the bar, so we don't make eye contact, and thankfully she doesn't step on my tongue as she walks past. I do the same move as before, and get my arm around her waist.

I say let's go find a booth, and she responds absolutely... We continue walking to the back room, and do a lap, but don't find anything. I sit down in a chair by the emergency exit, and we wait for a booth to open up. We start the typical conversation, but she's already gently rubbing my cock through my pants. In my experience, most girls at least wait for money to be discussed or a the first dance. Her name is Mrs. A, and she lives where I grew up... yadda yadda yadda... she does a dance (heavy 2 way contact), halfway through, we get scooped out of getting a booth.

her: Don't worry, he's going to run away squealing like a little girl in just a second
me: why?
her: once he sees her tits, they are scary
me: oh... I thought you meant she was going to do something that would make most men squeal like little girls.
<we both laugh, and she finishes the dance>
me: so much for that booth, forget it, lets get a drink, and try in the front
her: ???
me: take a look

The dancer in the booth didn't bother taking her top off, her hair was obstructing anyones view, but she definitely had a mouthful of cock. So we order up at the bar, and while waiting on the drinks some guy swung around in his seat, and told me too hurry up, because he wanted her. I say, "I'll see what I can do," but I'm thinking, she's all your's once the lights come on... We get our drinks and start walking away, when she yells, for everyone to hear, "I hate soft dick mother fuckers that sit at the bar and do that!"

We find a booth in the front, and I get the next two complete songs. Before those two started her hands were all over me, so I figure she's fair game, same thing after the songs. Our drinks come and the waitress just drops them off, I'm digging out my wallet and she walks away... We look at each other, shrug, and resume fondling.

Her dances thus far have been phenomenal. Eye contact, facial expression, everything, contact, have all been spot on, and could make anyone happy. We do several more just like that. It's after just after 2 now, no more booze, they are picking up the glass, and are serving the buffet. I flag down the waitress from earlier and ask why she hasn't let me pay yet. She said that guy over there (pointing to him) said to put us on his tab. I told her I'm pretty sure he meant a different booth so here is the money for the drinks...

I know what you are thinking the night is almost over, she sounds fun, but so far it's pretty standard... Like I said it's after 2, thus the buffet is going, so we decided to try for a booth in the back room. We were in luck, there is a good one open. She looks me in the eye and says, "Well, looks like we finally got some real privacy..."

So our hands back all over each other, and she starts dancing, she is definitely being more aggressive now. She is CG right now, and puts her lips right up in my ear, grabs my dick, and whispers, "Did I make this dick hard rubbing it with my pussy?" I grunt. She puts a couple of fingers under my chin (the back rests here force your chin into your chests when you go for heavily reclined positions), lifts it up and turns my head towards her with authority. She sternly repeats herself looking me dead in the eye. "uh-huh" I manage as she started choking the life out of my dick. She relaxes her grip on my dick, but keeps my head facing hers, still applying pressure under my chin with her fingertips. She gives me a quick peck on the lips and switches into RCG...

While in RCG, she leans back to put her head on one of my shoulders, and reaches around grabs the back of my head from the other side, she gets her lips right up to my ear again and whispers, "I Love getting fucked in the ass. Does your dick get hard thinking about fucking me in the ass?" I push her forward so I can talk into her ear, and say, "I'd like to do a lot more to your ass than fuck it."
she purrs: oh yeah, like what?
me: I want to bury my tongue in it
she purrs: how deep?
me: as deep as I can
she purrs: how long?
me: till you can't take it anymore

She grinds a little bit longer and then turns around straddling me again, and says, "I like it when a guy is fucking me from behind, and just starts sticking his fingers in my ass without telling me." So I respond man handling my way around from her tits to her ass with one hand, run my middle finger down the material, and I'm greeted by her relaxing her sphincter. She moans in my ear for a few brief seconds and tells me how good that feels, she then asks me to talk dirty to her.

I explain to her that I'm not a big talker, she insists, "Just tell me one thing dirty." I sigh and think for a bit, and decide why not. “I wanna eat your ass while you eat mine,” I say. She then puts her arms around me, works her hands all the way down my back, finds her way down to where my ass meets the couch, and says, “I guess we won't be doing that tonight...”

I tell her to try from the front, so she gets down on her knees and grabs my dick with one hand and my balls with the other. She tells me I've got big balls, I must shoot a big load. She massages those for a few seconds, then works those fingers all the way down and around to my ass. The whole time our eyes are locked and she's biting her lower lip. She is so fucking hot, it hurts, I don't know why, but I'm starting to wonder how she looks in daylight without the makeup.

So here I am, with this sexy number kneeling between my legs with one hand on my dick, the other tickling my ass. I'm quite pleased at the moment, and this goes on for a fairly long time. She climbs back up, and straddles me for some more grinding, I look up and notice, her choker isn't really a choker. It's a collar. I work one hand up, all the way up her body, and wrap my fingers around her collar and begin to apply pressure, not to much though, I didn't like the idea of squeezing rhinestones into her neck, and I doubt she would appreciate that.

She responded by tilting her head back, and trying to give me more neck. Unfortunately, their wasn't really enough room around the collar to get a good grip. I press on, working my other hand up her back. I work my fingertips up into her hair, grab a handful and start pulling back. She digs that to, but only for an instant, then tells me to hold on for just a second. She switches back to RCG, arches back, and tells me now go for it. This time I gather up all her hair and get a really firm grip on it. I start to pull, and as I increase the tension, she arches even further and further back, grinding all the way.

When I let her hair go, she leans way forward, and puts an arm down between our legs, and works her way from my dick, to my balls, to my ass. She's really massaging that sphincter like a champ. Since she's leaning forward, I've got a terrific view of the radiant ass I mentioned before, so I smack it as hard as I can only using my wrist for wind up. I get a decent pop for how weak it was, and she snapped slightly into an arched back position momentarily. She looks over her shoulder and says, “I know you can do it harder than that.” “Of course,” I respond. She gives a tiny little nod. I take a proper windup, and smack her again significantly harder, this time she snaps into the arched back position, sucking air in through her teeth, and cooh's. I rub where I had hit, and give it a nice squeeze.

When I'm done with my squeezing her ass, I turn my hand over and grab her crotch (over the thong). My thumb on her anus, and middle and index finger over her snatch. I've always wanted to do that (gab a chick like a bowling ball). That's the closest I've been, I liked it, and hope to do the real thing someday.

We carry on like this till the lights turn on. I hate to skip over the last hour and a half of the night like that, but all the activities performed for the rest of the night were already touched upon, and the attitudes and mood were already covered. Adding anymore would just be repetitive, and I would never finish this TR.

Chili Palmer
08-14-2006, 09:50 PM
Wonderful, lunchbox. Just wonderful. Especially the "coke whore laugh" bit.

CP

mr_punk
08-14-2006, 10:52 PM
She rattles off a couple sentences, and I'm like awesome, I bagged a coke whore on the first try!LOL..yeah, that is funny.

My thumb on her anus, and middle and index finger over her snatch. I've always wanted to do that (gab a chick like a bowling ball). That's the closest I've been, I liked it, and hope to do the real thing someday.if it does happen for you lunchbox. remember to lubricate those fingers before picking up the bowling ball.

lunchbox
08-14-2006, 11:05 PM
if it does happen for you lunchbox. remember to lubricate those fingers before picking up the bowling ball.
duly noted.

doc-catfish
08-16-2006, 08:21 PM
Well, a little twin Twin Cities TR for your amusement. GenWar style. ;D

Saturday Night - Part One

I got into Minneapolis on Friday, but didn't do anything that night due to being exhausted after a long drive from Eastern Wisconsin. For Saturday, I was wondering what club would be best to hit between perusing my options downtown or hitting another place out in the suburbs. After seeing the place out in the suburbs was closed on Sundays, I chose it.

Like an idiot, I booked a motel room completely on the opposite side of the metroplex from where this was located so it took damned near half an hour to drive there. The very last thing you do before reaching the place is cross a set of railroad tracks and no sooner do I approach the tracks does the damned crossbar come down. A guy coming out of the place decides to swing around the crossbar. I decide to wait it out and start the evening out by counting train cars. 110 of them I believe. I was just hoping that it wasn't a bad omen.

Eventually I arrive, and the parking lot is fairly full as expected. I get in and the doorman seems to paying extra scrutiny to ID's esspecially from young people and out of staters. No pat down to check for containers of liquids or gels, but more than I'm used to at home. Cover is $10 which seems a bit steep for a blue collar joint, but hey its Saturday. After paying, I actually walk through a frigging turnstile.

Seats are hard to find but there's a few seats at the rail. Not where I want to sit considering that its a no trolling zone for gals to ask guys for dances. Anyways I order a Sprite from the waitress and its $5.50. I was told drink prices were high around here, but Gadzooks. Eventually a couple of guys abandon a barstool table behind me and I grab one of the seats. Another solo customer comes in and I let him have the other seat. Guy seemed to be in a bad mood. All he did was milk his Dasani (also $5.50) for an hour and a half, and stared angrily at the stage. Didn't tip a cent.
I wasn't expecting a great amount of contact here, but the DJ announced that table dances were $10 all night long. Eventually a pretty brunette approached and got me warmed up. Lets just say, I've never had a dance in a barstool before and if there were a place that I could move to, I would have. I do two with her, and two more with a blonde gal who practically turned her dances into a deep tissue massage (and I don't mean in a good way).

The place began to get really crowded and hence as much as I didn't like my seat, I knew once I got up from it, it was good as gone. Its one saving grace was that it had a nice view of the stage to amuse me while I wasn't getting a dance. Unfortunately, I wasn't getting any dances because no dancers would walk down the dead end row of seats that I was resigned to sitting in. The blonde came back for me, but I really didn't want to repeat the massage from hell experience, so the drought of attention continued. Even the waitress seemed to forget I was there.

At long last the guys in the barstools at the front end of the row leave and I move over to the seat on the end, hoping that it will increase my visibility. I finally got a waitress (probably because I left my empty glass of soda at my old table) and order a cranberry juice, this one is $6.50 (cough, cough). Shit, I thought I was in Vegas or something.

At long last, I watch a brunette on stage who could do these amazing gymnastic pole tricks. The gal did a full flip in 7" heels. I plop a couple bucks on the rail and ask if she's free for dances. It took her about twenty minutes to get to me, but she eventually found me and we did three of them. Afterwards, I got the hell out of there. The overcrowding of 22 year olds and shitkickers was more than I could bear.

The joint probably would have had a different vibe if it wasn't a weekend. Just more proof that I really can't stand to be in a SC when they're packed with idiots. Not a great evening, or even a good one, but my brunette gymnast saved it from being a disaster. I'd grade it a C-.

doc-catfish
08-16-2006, 08:21 PM
Sunday Night - Part Two

Was wondering whether to go disc golfing or hit a Twins game on Sunday and when I woke up it was raining like hell so the decision to hit the baseball game was rather easy. I packed my club clothes, dress shoes, and deoderant into a sack and put them in my trunk.

The game let up about 4:00 so I had hours to burn before hitting the clubs. I
went around downtown sightseeing and taking pictures for a couple of hours. While walking around, I found some rain soaked passes lying in the street for "complimentary admission" to one of the downtown clubs and figured hell why not. The worst that can happen is they don't accept it.

When there was nothing else to take pictures of, I decided to go to this place called Block E with restauraunts, movie theatres, and a Gameworks. After dinner I somehow piss away $12 on skeeball and score a deck of playing cards for my efforts. Why can't they get more adult oriented prizes at these places.

Eventually it was 8:00, still too early in my book, but there was a club a
couple of blocks away that I wanted to try out. I get there and there's two big burly guys in tuxedos waiting outside. One checks my ID, sees I'm from Kansas, and starts up with the Wizard of Oz wisecracks. He takes me inside and tells me that its "customer appreciation night" (yea!) and that table dances are $10 all night. So I figured I'm either going to save a lot of money or have a lot of dances.

Of course, you knew there was going to be a catch. There were only four girls working in the damned place!! Granted three of them were dance worthy, and I explicitly asked all three of them if they were available when they got off stage.

The problem was that, well, none of them were. Every damned one of them
had some fucko monopolizing their time.

And while I hope more gals eventually show up, I have a feeling I'm going to be sitting alongside the rail admiring the scenery for the better part of the
evening. I eventually ask the waitress for $20 in singles. Even that wasn't exactly easy to enjoy because this club has "break songs" between the dancers sets where there are no dancers on the stage.

The rotation comes to an end, and still only four dancers, I tip everyone again and get the standard "oh baby, I haven't forgotten about you" and while I'm normally annoyed by this, under the circumstances I really couldn't blame them. I mean, they were indeed busy with other customers and not toiteying around at the bar. Eventually a fifth gal shows up, a decently busty (Kelly Clarkson before going blonde) brunette, but she is aloof as they come, I ask if she's free for dances and I don't even think she heard me. Scratch her from the list as well.

I was about to leave to check out the place with the free pass I found when much like the previous evening, the saving grace shows up right before I'm about to leave. A tall blonde with pigtails, fishnets, legs that go on forever. I pop the question on her, and my God, she says "why sure!".

:crossfing Now lets see if she follows through.

Sure enough, right after her set she walks right over and introduces herself. Not a lot of mileage, but very hot and flirty, and a lot better than what I expected. I got three dances from her, and while I perhaps should have continued, my dissatisfaction with the break songs and the inability to get a dance from the other gals had wore my patience thin. I wanted to check out the other club, hoping for improvement.

Upon walking out, I spot two of the gals who had told me they were "busy" having a cigarette break (smoking is apparently banned in clubs here) and one of them comes over and says "Oh God, I must have just missed you. I'm so sorry!! Were you in the bathroom?"

Uh no, I was with one of your co-workers. ::)

I could have made a scene about it being her own damned fault, or pressured her to persuade the doorman to let me back in for free, but I had had about enough, so I played it cool and told her "maybe next time".

And they wonder why they don't make any money. Que sera sera, I guess.

After leaving, I walk back past Block E and down a few blocks before hitting
the place. I was warned about the off the charts hustle at this joint but curiosity got the better of me. Another burly bouncer in a tux at the door but no one checks my ID. The doorgal tells me cover is $10, and I show her the pass that I found in the street. Success!! So if you're ever trolling the streets of Minneapolis, there's a little tip for you.

Things were looking up....then I sat down, and they announce a promo. Ah shit. I knew things were going too good off the bat. Before the waitress can even take my drink order, no fewer than four gals come over trying to peddle bobblehead dolls and a bunch of baseball memorabilia that apparently wouldn't sell in the clearance bin at the Mall Of America Sportsfan shop. I decline them all as I haven't gotten a drink yet. Eventually a waitress comes over and I order my usual Sprite. She brings it back and its EIGHT f**King dollars. Thank God I found that pass.

The other thing that I found rather upsetting about this place was the sheer amount of time that went by with no gal on stage. I'm not talking about break songs but periods of ten or more minutes with no one on stage. Eventually a scrawny blonde hits me up for a dance and I figure what the heck. She takes me to another more comfortable seat and spends a good thirty seconds of our song ($20) getting her shoes and dress off. Decent grindage for Minneapolis but the gal is extremely aloof and all hustle, and I stop at one dance, no tip.

A little later, I'm watching her on stage and she's just going through the
motions and while I watch her on stage she asks "are you bored or something?". Am I bored or something? What the f**k? Do you say this to all customers who buy a dance from you?

But like an idiot, I bought another one from her. Not much better than the
first one, so no tip. The DJ announced another promo coming up, and I decided that there was no better time than the present to skeedadle. My nerves were at their breaking point, and everyone in the place seemed like they were on drugs. Mind you the place was open until 3 and it was only 11, so I imagined things were just going to get worse. I just didn't get the place at all.

I missed the pigtailed blonde from the first club. Hell, I even missed the skeeball game at Gameworks. I thought of heading back to the first club, but I didn't want to invest in another cover charge and figured it would be midnight by the time I got back to the motel as it was. I had a long drive to Iowa the next day, so I decided to call it an evening.

Not exactly how I wanted to spend my SC time in MSP, but next time (if there is one) I'll have the benefit of experience on my side.

lunchbox
08-16-2006, 09:37 PM
Would they really charge you cover again for just walking out and back in? Sounds like a fucked up weekend, sorry bro.

doc-catfish
08-17-2006, 07:30 AM
Would they really charge you cover again for just walking out and back in? Sounds like a fucked up weekend, sorry bro.
If I had known what was going to befall me at the second club, I'd have certainly tried to find out. Then again, if I knew that I'd have never walked out in the first place. Personally, I think I just got there too stinking early.

It's all good in the end though, because cutting my losses freed up money for the nice blonde gal I bought ten dances from in Des Moines on Monday.
;D

afxturnip
08-17-2006, 07:56 AM
Catfish,

Damn, I feel for you, comrade. Sundays are usually really bad unless you have a fave that's working.

So yeah I know which clubs ya went to from your descriptions, and I can tell you that your complaints aren't yours alone. :)

At your Sat club, yeah those stools are awful. It's always been barstools, but at least the ones prior were comfortable. Those new stools were put in there at the time the new "Diamond Lounge" was opened - coincidence? I think not.

Oh yeah and I'm miffed. So you can't take my free passes, but you'll pick one up off the street! HMMPH! Heh, just kidding.

Speaking of cover charges, yeah I'm allergic to them. In fact I'm so damn cheap that when I went to the club you went to early Sunday, I stopped at the corner, grabbed one of the Xtreme Entertainment magazines and ripped out the damn coupon from one of the ads to avoid paying it.

Or you could do what I did one night, which is just walking in without approaching the front desk. Heh.

Anyway, damn it, I'm sorry you didn't have a good time!

-afx

afxturnip
08-17-2006, 10:25 AM
After paying, I actually walk through a frigging turnstile.


Ha ha ha ha. I'm surprised you didn't say anything about the porn-o-matic vending machine at the front!

And I'm a lightweight I know, but damn there's some scary shit in that machine.

Yeah, the shit you gotta go through to get in there is crappy. You didn't mention how they swipe your driver's license.

-afx

sander8son
08-20-2006, 10:27 AM
i'll make this short and sweet. me and my buddy went to three clubs yesterday. i got one topless dance froma chick while i was waiting for someone else. it was ok. finally the chick im waiting for comes around. i get a 15 minute private dance with someone who ive been a "regular" of for about 4 years. granted i rarely see her, but if im in the club when she's there i get the 15 minute deal from her.

so, i asked for and paid for a LD, but got a bj. ta-da

GenWar
08-22-2006, 02:23 PM
This past weekend was my company’s International Conference. It was being held in Orlando, FL. Since the company party on Saturday night is kinda lame, I made a point to check my list of favorite dancers who dance in the general vicinity. `Lo and behold, who should appear on the list but none other than Goddess Paige D’Winter herself. Naturally, appropriate PM’ing ensued. I text messaged a boy I have in the area, G, a buddy from college who is, without question, the politest person I have ever met. I invited him to run wingman duties and he readily agreed.

Saturday night arrives and I am dressing for the formal dinner and packing for the early morning departure when I realize that I have exhausted my supply of club clothes. All the black pants, black tshirts and patterned black shirts are dirty. In fact, one set is soaking wet from an unfortunate interaction involving a half bottle of patron and the hotel Jacuzzi. In any event, I panic, as I have nothing to wear to the club. Scanning the room in frustration, my eyes come to rest on the tuxedo hanging patiently on the wall. I shrug to myself and think, “what the heck?” Dressed to the nines, I head down to dinner. On the way, I get a text message from G. “What time?” I quickly key back, “Be here at 10. and Dress Sexy.” He texts back, “rofl” and I know he didn’t get the message.

After dinner, the traditional company shot and a celebratory Cigar with some award winners from my team, I am ready to roll. G had joined us for the cigar but we hadn’t finished the 8x50s we were smoking, so we took them with us. “Are you going to wear that to the club?” He asked, with some consternation. I nodded, with a slight smile. He looked down at his own jeans and t-shirt and shrugged. “Should I stop home and change?” He asked. I shook my head, “Don’t worry about it. I am sure I will be more out of place than you will.” He reluctantly agreed.

I decided to let him drive because he insisted and I had had about 2 beers, 3 glasses of wine and 4 shots. The trip from the conference resort to the club was about 72 miles and I hadn’t technically slept on Friday night so it was all for the better, because I was out like a light 4 minutes into the trip. I woke up suddenly as we drove down a commercial street with lights on either side. I scanned for a club but every business seemed to have big pink or purple neon signs so the general scans were not working. We got lost and turned around a bit but eventually we found it. G pulled into the back of the parking lot and parked. I decided to leave my 1/3 of a cigar in the car. I would have chucked it but it was a Savinelli and I like those too much. We assumed that we wouldn’t be able to smoke inside the club.

As we are rolling up on the club, an ethnically mixed group of four nice young men emerged and departed, complaining loudly of some inside altercation that had not ended in their favor. I chuckled to myself and commented to G, “I love these places.” Several staff members gave me a double take on my way to the door, making me wonder if I hadn’t made a tactical error with the tux. I opened the door wide and let G step in before me. We stepped around a mirrored post to get in line at a cover charge station. The guy in line in front of me also gave me the double take, causing the door gal to have to tell him the cover charge twice.

As I waited, I looked around as much of the club as I could see. The design of the entry way specifically limited the view of the main part of the club but I did see a bar. And directly across from where we were standing behind the bar was a dancer with long, silky black hair and creamy white skin. I suspected it was Paige, having seen numerous pictures on the internet, but I wasn’t sure. She was also giving me an appraising eye, maybe with some recognition. She moved to come from behind the bar and a long, luscious leg came into view. All doubt fled my mind in an instant. “And there she is…” I muttered softly to G. He glanced over. “Really?” I nodded, “I think so.” The door check girl named a figure without so much as blinking at me. I handed her enough cash for me and G. She handed me a single as change and I tried to simultaneously put the single in her jar and show her my id, coming perilously close to tipping her a driver’s license. She smiled at the awkwardness of the move and grabbed the ID before I dropped it, returning it after a brief inspection.

I immediately stepped over to Paige and extended my hand. “Good evening, ma’am.” I said to her. She took my hand briefly and then stepped back to look me up and down. “You weren’t kidding about dressing up, were you?” Her voice was perfect, smooth and silky with just a hint of smolder and the barest touch of a southern accent, like a tiny tribute to a misplaced dialect. I tried a shrug and said, “Well, I was but I guess it ended up panning out. Besides, I believe a man can never be overdressed.” She sketched a brief smile at this. As she had checked me out, I had tried to subtly do the same. She was wearing a black, strapless dress with strings on the side. As a dancer outfit, it was quite enticing. She was shorter than I had pictured but, being 6’4”, I find that most everyone I meet is shorter than I picture them. I smiled at her and told her that we needed to find some seats. I didn’t want to block the entry way. I turned to proceed into the club.

At this point, G had moved past me and stopped at a convenient beer station just inside the door. He offered me a beer and I agreed, ordering a Mich Ultra. The nice young lady popped open a couple of bottles from her tub of ice and handed them over. G told me, “I am going to get some 1’s.” and turned to the bar. I turned to step past him and found Paige waiting to escort me. I grinned at her and let her lead me around the bar and into the main part of the club. “Seating might be a bit of a problem.” She told me, scanning the club briefly. I followed her gaze and saw that, indeed, most of the club was packed. I followed her deeper into the club but the crowd prevented us for approaching the main stage. There were a couple of lonely tables near the secondary stage, immediately off the main path and surrounded on all other sides by the wall benches that served as lap dance locations. She pointed them out to me, looking at them with a disdainful glance. I shrugged, realizing that they were all we were going to get and took the outside seat, saving the inside seat for G. Paige grabbed a stage side chair and swung it around to sit across from me. This garnered her a couple more points, not that she needed them. I love it when a dancer sits across from you, rather than next to you. This allows you to maintain your original posture but still look at her.

I took a sip of beer and realized that Paige did not have a drink. I looked around for a waitress and saw none. “Did you want something to drink?” I asked her. Conversation was slightly awkward as it was loud in the club. Not just loud, but LOUD. We basically had to lean over and speak directly into each other’s ears. She nodded her response and asked for a glass of wine. I scanned for the waitress again and then just decided to get it myself. I got up and headed to the bar, where I ordered her drink. The cost was low, further solidifying the feel of a “neighborhood bar” as opposed to a club. I tried not to look a gift horse in the mouth and carefully balanced the wine back to the table. She smiled her thanks at me.

Well, Paige and I sat there, drank those drinks and talked for about 45 minutes. Topics ran the gamut from the club, the dj, her and her dancing and other activities, other clubs I have visited and she has worked at, my activities earlier in the evening and almost anything else we could think of. She is a good conversationalist and has one of the most expressive faces I have ever seen on a dancer. She could say so many and varied things with just a look. I was riveted watching her, just to see what expression she would make next. Of course, her beauty made it easy to look at her as much as possible.

She also had a terrific sense of humor and a fabulous laid-back personality. She laughed and joked with me, even self-deprecating humor. I honestly had NOT expected that from her online persona. Given that she is so gorgeous, and that, from some of the things on her sites and postings, she clearly knows it and is unabashedly unashamed of it, I think I might have expected her to be aloof, uptight and a bit full of herself. I even think I would have considered it to be justified, if she were. But you know…she just wasn’t. She was friendly, down-to-earth and engaging. She was able to relate personally while still making you feel good and feel like an equal. In short, she had the perfect personality for a dancer and it was great just to hang out with her.


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