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Moneywise
03-27-2007, 09:39 PM
Tuesday:
It’s 4:30 and as the front wheels of the airplane leave the ground I can’t help but think about the fun that I am to soon enjoy in Sin City. Yes. That’s one checked bag and zero carry ons. I’m ready to walk off the plane and into an awaiting cabbie. After connecting in Houston I arrive in Vegas at 8pm sharp. I bolt for a cab and direct the driver to the OG. I actually had originally planned to hit one club only. Missing my flight out of Vegas would have been disastrous since my brother had a limo awaiting my arrival in Ontario at 1am.
I arrive at the OG to find a parking lot fill with 5 cars. That’s right. I counted. Five! :-\ At that point I said to myself “WTH… that leaves more of a selection for me”. The club was very dark. No complaints here. The staff is friendly. I take residence at a seat near the bar. Up walks this enchanting little brunette. I honestly can’t recall her name. She was Russian through and through with a great little body. By this time (it didn’t take long) I had already decided I was going to head over to SR as well. What convinced me? I was quickly convinced by the assortment of 7 girls tops at the OG. Since she had stopped by and chatted me up I obliged her and enjoyed a couple of private dances in a dark corner. Her slow stirring of the pot made my temperature rise. First a rub of a cheek and then a soft run of the fabric that enveloped her slick little kitty. By the time the second song hit she took every opportunity to position herself so that her butt was facing away from any wandering eyes. Somehow or another a finger or two disappeared under the fabric and stroked her kitty. She was really getting into it and I knew I could have easily sat there for quite some time. At the end of the second song I made a conscientious decision to catch a cab over to the SR.
It’s now 9:45 and I am dropped off in front of the SR. Oh the memories. I had just partied here a year ago with my brother and an entourage of guys. We spent lots and had a great time. This time around I walked in with a little less liquor than I had in me a year ago and a dirt filled mind. The parking lot is PACKED! The club is jumpin! I would guesstimate at least 75 girls in attendance (and they were all amazingly beautiful). Looking around and not seeing someone that you can call “ok” is a pretty strange predicament to be in. After grabbing my GG & Club I case the place for a few minutes. There just aren’t very many clubs that measure up to this one on DAYUM scale.
The CH2 did back in the day but even the cabbie that drove me to the OG pointed over to the CH2 on the way by and talked about how it had gone downhill. I wasn’t in the club for 10 minutes. This amazing all American girl walks by sipping on a drink. Our eyes lock and she stops to chat. Her smile would have mesmerized even the most critical of men. She was petite with a lovely figure and had long straight brunette hair.
Me: oh my god…
Her: grinning ear to ear
Me: Let’s skip the small talk and go get a few dances. We can talk privately.
Her: OK.
Me: So where are we going.
Her: Well you can get a semi-private dance for 20 out in the open area or we can go to the VIP room. The rates in there are $100 for 3 dances or $200 for 30 minutes.
Me: Well… Let’s start with $ and see where it goes from there.
So we get into the room and sit down in one of many private booths separated by walls. We make small talk. I tell her about my trip and the conversation is going great. This girl truly was the pick of the bunch. Her smile, her personality, her ass… everything was perfecto. As the dances begin I waste no time with finding out where the boundaries were stroking her and caressing her in those erogenous zones while occasionally letting a hand wander. I quickly found the boundary line did not exist. Crazy… just plain crazy… Once again, let me remind you this is why I would be a broke ass man if I lived in Vegas. :P
Three dances turns into six. Six turns into nine.. All the while I am checking my watch to make sure I leave myself enough padding for the cab ride back to the airport and recertification through the security area. The dances where of high mileage yet also very classy. At one time I whispered in her ear “it’s so wet” to which she replied “I always get wet. I sometimes have to change my panties during a shift”. It truly was gushing. As I found opportunity after opportunity to explore I lifted the fabric around her kitty and caressed it. Soft caresses from top to bottom and a little light prodding produced a soaking we experience. Hey… I’m a man. I was turned the hell on. }:D That’s how three dances turned into nine. I could have easily blown my wallet up on her. Thankfully father time saved me and I began to wrap things up at 10:55 to be exact. I gave her a gigantic hug as we both talked about how much fun we had. In the blink of an eye I had exited and was in a cab on my way to the airport. After making it through the security checkpoint I made it to the gate at 11:40. Yes. They plane had already started board…lol
Weds:
My brother and I attend a 6th anniversary celebration for the existence of a Hawaiian restaurant in downtown San Diego. The owner himself had flown in from Hawaii and was in attendance. This was just any old celebration. You had to be a regular or know someone to even get in the door. I was along for the ride and had a blast. A 5 course meal was served. The meal included caviar which I had never had before. I’ll never have it again either. It wasn’t bad but I can think of so many better things to eat that aren’t gritty and salty. I also had my first taste of Kobe beef. This beef is imported from Japan and is very expensive. It’s so tender and can easily be cut with a fork. Good times were had by all.
I’ll fast forward past the rest of the mundane stuff. I had a blast but it didn’t involve SCs so you probably don’t want to hear about it. :D
Let’s fast forward to my return flight on Sunday. I board the plan in Ontario and arrive in Phoenix at around 2pm. My connecting flight is due to leave at 3:15. I look up and the big board and see that my connecting flight has been moved to 5:15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! :O Delta schmoozed me enough to convince me to take the later flight and stay the night in Atlanta on them. I basically missed my connecting from Atlanta thanks to their not having a plane ready for a 3:15pm takeoff from PHX. I arrive in Atlanta and make my way to the Crown Plaza by the airport at approximately 12:30am. My connecting flight home is due to leave at 8:15am and I have to be at the airport 2 hours prior. This left me less than six hours to either sleep or….. yooooou knowwww!
After a few calls I find a cab company that will take le to the only Sc open in ATL on a Sunday night. The Pink Pony. Before getting the cab I told the driver to level with me. Was it worth the drive? He answered with a resounding yes.. (sure he wanted my $30..lol) I arrive at the Pony and pay the $20 cover charge to get in. The atmosphere can best be described as busy and eventful with girls dancing on four stages at a time and plenty of smoke to fill the club. I’m a big fan of good service and the waitresses were great at making sure my Goose & Club was replenished early and often. There were at least two maybe three waitresses hitting me up. I must have had about 5 of those things. The population of girls in the club probably numbered twenty or so. The club was packed and very active. It was one big party and I hopped right into it after grabbing 80 in ones from the bar. I wasn’t out for mileage. I just wanted to have some fun up in this spot. I would say a good 12 or so out of 20 girls were amazing. To top it off it was a full nude club with a fully operating bar. Sick I tell ya! I spent a good 60 of those 80 ones just sitting around stages and having everything from bald to chia cat stuffed into my facial space. Before I knew it the time was 3:50 am. The taxi ride back to the hotel took me right up to 4:15am. I still had an hour or so before I had to get ready to hit the airport. I’m not sure how but I laid in bed, watched tv, and didn’t fall asleep. Actually I think I closed my eyes for a bit but I was conscious enough to open them back up at about 6am. That was pure luck. Not even a wake up call would have done me any good in that drunken state. Somehow I made it to the airport and finally made my way back home.
While in Cali my brother and I did hit a SC called “club 215” but it was such a dive that I didn’t see any worth in writing about it.
MW
Xiomara
03-27-2007, 11:46 PM
I think my jealous streak just came back--something I let go of a long time ago. Heh, I got a great ass too, so Im cool. :) Glad you had a good time!
Susan Wayward
03-28-2007, 01:55 AM
Wait, was this this past Sunday?
Moneywise
03-28-2007, 04:06 AM
Wait, was this this past Sunday?
Yes. Were you at the Pony?
Susan Wayward
03-28-2007, 10:55 AM
Nope, but I was on Monday. Damn!
Moneywise
03-28-2007, 08:46 PM
Nope, but I was on Monday. Damn!
Damn... ;)
Moneywise
03-28-2007, 08:46 PM
I think my jealous streak just came back--something I let go of a long time ago. Heh, I got a great ass too, so Im cool. :) Glad you had a good time!
Oh yes you do. }:D
Richard_Head
03-28-2007, 11:16 PM
There just aren’t very many clubs that measure up to this one on DAYUM scale. I have yet to find one.
Nice TR MW, sounds like a good time.
Moneywise
03-29-2007, 04:22 PM
Cut her some slack; it was her 13th of the day.
http://www.adultnetsurprise.com/images/smilies/new/bustup.gif
It's always good reading your stuff Lartecsan.
xdamage
03-29-2007, 04:59 PM
Damn MW, and I was going to set up my next Vegas trip for May - I had it in my head I'd enjoy this trip without blowing $$ at an SC. Now you got me thinking I'm insane - lol.
TroJaN SeTrA
03-30-2007, 07:19 PM
Was working late on a Saturday night and had received several messages from my dancer about how boring the club was because of lack of customers and really wanted me to come in. I hadn’t been for a couple of weeks and my itch was getting pretty bad, so I decided what the hell.
Made the thirty minute drive and arrived just after midnight. The club was packed! I took one of the only available seats which were far far away from the stage. Lighting was bad and I couldn’t make out who was dancing. There were quite a few girl customers in that night. Come to find out that a college basketball game had let out and the club filled up when it was over.
Sat there with my drink for 15-20 minutes trying to scope out the dancers working the room, which there wasn’t that many of. Finally I see my dancer walk up and sit with a customer right in front of me. Didn’t know if she saw me and was ignoring me or wasn’t paying any attention. She sat with him for 5 minutes and I guess didn’t make a sale, and then got up and went to the bar. I followed her up there and asked her if she was available for a dance. Once she realized who I was, she grabbed my hand and led me back to VIP. Said she was having the best night she’d had in a long time and was up $800 before I came in. I helped put her over a $1,100 for the night and she was pretty happy.
We stayed there until she had to go on stage, which were the last songs of the evening. She talked about meeting at a motel after closing, and while I didn’t say yes, I didn’t say no either. Told me to wait until she done changing so we could leave together. I sat in the main room until the bouncers turned on the lights and told everyone it was closing time and to leave. I go out to my car and sit there in 20 degree weather trying to figure out what I should do.
Finally figured that if I really wanted to meet her OTC, I wouldn’t be agonizing so much about what to do. I guess I got cold feet along with cold everything else. So as I’m heading home, my phone rings and it’s her asking where I was. Told her I got cold feet and decided to leave and she hangs up on me.
Thought that might be the end of our “relationship”, until she started calling again the next week. I know my money is important to her, and I don’t mind giving it up. I have a good time with her ITC. If I could bang her OTC without any strings attached, I’d do it. I just don’t know what her real intentions might be.
Called her back tonight to see if she was working tomorrow. Her attitude on the phone was like “oh it’s you”. Said I’d see her, but I might just cancel and save my funds for my trip to Vegas next month.
......Why
GenWar
03-31-2007, 03:24 PM
^Why what? Why would he NOT want to see her OTC?
Well, as cool as the holy grail is, there are about a million reasons to steer clear of it. Not the least of which is....drama...dramadramadrama. Howie's gal, like a LOT of dancers, sounds like a drama junkie. Life is tough enough without adding EXTRA drama.
And that is just one reason. With Effort, I could list a million more.
-gen
Casual Observer
04-01-2007, 01:55 PM
^ Agreed. That's always what runs through the mind of a seasoned SC veteran--"Is there going to be an intolerable level of drama associated with this OTC arrangement?" If the answer even requires thought, you should get out while you can.
lestat1
04-10-2007, 08:51 PM
First club visit in damn near 6 months to a year.
Went to the local "upscale neighborhood" club (think Macy's on the scale of Walmart to Madison/5th avenue), which is now very local (I could walk there in 5 minutes, I'll have to remember that the next time Friday or Saturday night ends early and I've had a few already). In planning my first visit in a while, I foolishly thought to myself: "Hey, self, I'll do this up right! Why not 'abstain' for a week or so before going so I'm good and fired up, bring lots of money, tip well, and get lots of dances!?" Brilliant. Yeah - that could never backfire...
Bankroll: $400 + $60 in singles.
First dancer I saw on stage was a hot, tight, exotic asian beauty. Too damn hot! Delightful too, because I like asian women and I see them too rarely in the clubs around here. So at a club where a dollar or two is the usual tip for a stage set, she got closer to 10. I think one other guy tipped her, and not with as many singles as I did...usually an indicator that duh - me likey. She wisely went to me first and following our lap dance (at the clubs around here, this a 30-second dance right where you're sitting for a few dollars, used to entice you into a private dance) I went for a private dance.
A private dance means $25 to the club, $25 to her in tip (this is, how do you say, not an 'air dance' club). Tuesdays should be 2-4-1, but the doorman made no mention of this, so I went with one for now, planning on a long night ahead. During the private dance she nibbled my ears, usually a good way to make me do anything she says and hand over lots of $, but she was too teasey - in the bad way. Rather than backing off as I got too excited and thus keeping me highly aroused and buying more dances, she would back off way too early. As in "at the first sign of an erection." Not a good trait for a dancer to have at a grind club (for the customers or her purse), but I didn't regret the dance; her raw sexiness and sensuality made for an enjoyable private dance, and I would get one again in the future...just not at that moment. So I passed on her offer of another. This is a club where the customer can put their hands on the dancers back/waist in fairly G rated cusomer to dancer contact, but as my hands were freezing cold, I spared her that unpleasantness and sat back, letting her do her thing.
Next dancer on stage (that I saw - may have missed a rotation while in back) had a very tight body, a face nearly as good, and a schoolgirl outfit! Maybe it's because I have no children, maybe it's that I'm a pervert, maybe I'm easily-entertained by sexual cliches, but a dancer with a schoolgirl outfit makes me a happy patron. Throw in a "Wanna dance, Daddy?" and I turn into a dollar-bill dispensing unit. In this case, I had to settle for just the outift. Schoolgirl dancer also received more tipping from me than the other guys, and following her stage set, it was a repeat of Hot Asian girl. Lap dance, followed by a one-song private dance. Again, freezing hands, so it was all her. Schoolgirl dancer, simply put, worked it. She worked it well. She started slow, sped up gradually, and used her charms well. While not the best private dance I've ever had, it was an all-around top nocth one, and is the sort of dance I go the club hoping for. My heart was pounding, and it's been way too long since I've felt that kind of passion. She was not coy, and displayed the kind of eagerness and intensity that makes me lost in the moment during a dance, another much sought-after feeling.
Remember what I said about my plan backfiring? Schoolgirl dancer drilled for oil and found it, thus making good use of the private-dance towels that they employ. Perfect timing, right at the end of the dance. She asked if I was taking off now or sticking around for a while, but I decided I was done for. She gave me a few hugs and asked me to come see her again. I tipped her an extra $10, but the real money she made tonight is in the repeat business she'll get from me.
Bittersweet, as I'd hoped to stay longer and get more dances from the other girls, but that just means I'll have to go back soon and spend the rest! :)
Money spent: $~140
doc-catfish
04-10-2007, 09:11 PM
Long time no post number 1. Good TR and welcome back. :thumbsup:
GenWar
04-11-2007, 05:43 AM
Yeah...good one `stat. :)
Almost makes me what to hit up that club. But, as you know, that is a very difficult place for an upscale club junkie like myself to go. I honestly shiver just thinking about it.
Why o' why do I live in a clubbing wasteland?
-gen
slcdon
04-28-2007, 08:38 PM
This section has been dead lately, so I thought I would add a TR to liven it up a bit.
I was traveling this week and after a busy morning that forced me to skip breakfast, found myself near a club with a “gourmet lunch” and some time on my hands. Although I had never been there before, it seemed like a logical choice J.
I paid my $7 cover and went through doors to find a low stage in the middle of the floor. The club wasn’t busy and there were only few custys on pervert row and a few occupying tables away from the stage. I went past the stage and found a table a few back from the stage. Many of the custy’s had dancers sitting with them and there were a few other dancers floating about. The dancers seemed to be 6-8s and I didn’t see any real dogs in the bunch. I had not even sat down completely when Dancer A appeared from behind me and asked if she could join me.
I answered “sure” without looking - bad move on my part. This one I had missed – even though she was wearing a top to cover it, there was a 30-lb tire around the mid-section. Just as she sat down, they call her name as being next on stage, so I thought I was safe. The waitress stopped a moment later and took my drink and lunch order and asked about one for Dancer A. I said that since she in going on stage in one song, I was sure that she would rather wait until afterwards, right? Dancer A jumps in with a ”No, I really need one before I get on stage.” Oh well, what’s one drink? When the drinks arrived a few moments later, her drink was $15! And, the lunch will not be ready for 15 minutes.
Since she is headed the stage, I’ll be rid of her in a moment – wrong! She took one sip, then left her drink on my table. While she was dancing, I realized that all of the dancers sitting with custies had these cranberry drinks in large glasses – they were using them to stake out there territory and she had staked me out as her territory. Sure enough, she promptly returned as soon as she finishes on stage. Oh well, I’ll endure it through lunch and she’ll get the hint.
They announce a VIP special and she pops the question – I respond firmly that I am not interested. She says that she’ll be right back (leaves drink) and goes to see the on PL that tipped her on stage. Unfortunately, he must have said no, because she did come right back. I tip the next 2 dancers on stage (Dancer B and C) generously and obviously - partly because they were hot and partly to make a point (she didn't get the hint). Dancer B walks by after she gets off the stage, but seeing that I am taken, moves on. Lunch finally arrives. After a few minutes, Dancer A asks if I will be ready for private dances once I finish – not interested I tell her. A few moments later she gets up and says that she’ll be right back – again leaves her gigantic drink marker on my table! Finally, when the waitress returns to get the lunch plate, I give her the remainder of Dancer A’s drink. She resists saying that Dancer A isn’t finished with it yet, so I just move it to an adjacent (empty) table.
Dancer B stops by immediately (I am sure she was just waiting for the stake-out drink to be gone; this club seems to have a clear system for marking custies and I don't like it. Next time, I definitely will not be buying dancer drinks.). Dancer B was hot and she was direct. The conversation went something like this:
B: “So, you have had lunch; are you ready to have some fun now?”
Me: Sure, what do you have in mind?
After just a few exchanges of verbal jousting,
B: “Let’s go the VIP room – everything is on the menu there. I make sure my customers leave VERY happy.”
Me: What’s VIP like and what does it cost?
B: “It’s $75 to the house for a small curtained off room. I’ll s*ck you off for $$.” A few moments of silence, then “or, I’ll f*ck you for $$$.”
Me: I am sure I stuttered from shock of the straight talk, but eventually replied that was a little more than I had in mind.
B: “OK, I’ll f*ck you for $$; I told you that I want all of my customers to leave happy.”
Me: That’s still more than I had in mind.
B: “What if we just do some private dances. They are normally $40/ea; I’ll give you 3 for $ and jerk you off while doing it.”
Me: What if we just do three great dances for $ and see what happens?
Off we go to the private dance area (near the back of the club). She gives me 3 of the best dances that I have ever had. She was sexy, sensual, did plenty of stick shifting along the way, and encouraged me to play with all of the playground equipment. Although she didn’t succeed in her goal (she was very disappointed), it wasn’t because she didn’t try. I left a very happy guy. Fortunately, she doesn’t work much and I live elsewhere. Otherwise, I could get addicted.
slcdon
I don't like going to the club on Sundays. A couple of reasons, really. One, the club doesn't open til 7 which most of the time is a problem for me. And second, I prefer the business type customer atmosphere commonly found on the afternoon shift instead of the youngens and the middle aged lost souls that typify the Sunday night crowd. Admittedly, the rowdiness of the youngens is annoying but the neediness of the divorced and lonely guys my age is really scary. But on the heels of an awesome Saturday afternoon RR lotion fun session (Miss D quadrapopping and me with one of the best singletons I've had in a long time) I couldn't see how I could blow off her request. Plus due to me spilling the beans, she knew I had a hall pass this weekend with Mrs FBR being out of town til Monday. So, when she called around 4 o'clock today to verify that I could make it out, I said sure.
I got to the club about 5 minutes before 7. The door was unlocked so I went on in. There was a new door girl on duty and she was very cute. I mean stripper quality. I had my $5 cover charge and a buck tip in hand as I stepped up to the counter, She smiled sweetly so I smiled back. Her smile was much more attractive than mine considering my teeth are twice the age of hers but I gave it my best shot. "No dancers on stage yet, hon" she said "so no cover". Her friendliness indicated to me that she didn't consider me a cheap ass guy trying to beat the cover so I tossed both bills into her tip jar. That generated a huge smile. If she ever decides to dance instead of collect door fees, I'm betting I'll get some nice attention stageside from her should she have a change in vocation. Good investment.
After settling in at my regular table (which must have an invisible "Reserved for FBR" sign on it since it's always available) I spent a minute watching a couple of strippers practicing pole work. One of the dancers was an obvious veteran but the other was a total newbie. The newbie almost busted her ass a couple of times. In the background the DJ was playing random partial songs. Guess he was warming up his equpment. Being a time Nazi, I checked my cell time display and saw it was a couple of minutes past 7. Lets get this show on the road, dammit! Finally, the DJ called up a dancer and I was glad it wasn't Miss D. The asshole manager (as opposed to the other cool manager) was on duty and if Miss D hadn't been right there ready he would have fined her. I mean, she would have deserved it but I knew I'd have to cover the damn infraction after hearing her bitch about the manager.
About 30 seconds into the first song, I saw Miss D crossing the line of demarcation from the dressing room into the war zone. She didn't have on BDU's and kevlar, fortunately, but instead my favorite outfit....black (which contrasts nicely with her blonde, down-to-her-ass Lady Godiva hair), low cut and loose in the front complimented by a finishing point just enough below the thong to make it interesting. I greeted her warmly (I mean, hell, it had been over 24 hours) and wasn't surprised when she asked me if I had ordered drinks yet. She'd been taking antibiotics for a sinus infection but after a week long alcohol sabatical she was ready. I admitted to being a poor host (which got a chuckle out of her) so she went over to the bar to take up my slack. She came back empty handed but said a waitress would be bring our drinks over. I was chatting her up when the waitress came over. I glanced up at the waitress...looked back over at Miss D,,,and then did a double take. Holy shit! This was the gal that used to barmaid at my old stealth south of town club. The one that DJ (the old timers might remember her) worked at and the one I used to visit while swearing fealty to Miss D but banging OTC bongos elsewhere.
"FBR!" she exclaimed. She gave me a hug and it was obvious that there was some past history there. She started chatting me up and all the while I'm feeling like I'm waiting for a blindfold and a final cigarette before facing the firing squad. I lamely asked her what she had been doing...how was her life going...et cetera. Under the circumstances it was impossible for me to insist that it was a case of mistaken identity. Thankfully the waitress didn't go into details. I don't know if it was because she's cool or didn't want to fuck with her tip or just didn't remember but in any case I was relieved when she went on about her business taking care of other customers.
Miss D asked me a couple of questions afterwards but generally seemed unconcerned which is good. We parted on good company but I still feel a bit like I was potentially cockblocked by a waitress tonight. Blah.
FBR
GenWar
05-06-2007, 05:18 PM
The Yankees were playing the Mariners. The Wingman is a lifelong Yankees fan who had never been to Yankee stadium. We planned a trip for Cinco de Mayo for his first visit, before they tear it down. We were going to bring the Mexican and everything. Well, the plan fell apart. The Mexican bailed...the Wingman grabbed an extra ticket to last weeks Red Sox game. Even Wang's perfect game was ruined in the 8th inning by a solo home run from a random .173 Seattle batter. Shoulda gone to the hotel and gone to bed but the night HAD to improve.
So, we got to Philly around 11 ish. It was Saturday, so we should have gone to the home club. But that place has been going downhill for a while and it was a fight night. BIG fight. So that place would be packed to the rafters. Still, they don't charge cover and they have their smoking ban exemption fully in effect, so it was the choice. But I hadn't been to the OTHER club in a long while and and I am stubborn (and stupid.) So I ignored the better judgement and headed to the cavernous alternate club. There are a bunch of girls there that I have been ridiculously enamored with for some time. Plus, a couple of MAJOR SWers. So, I was nostalgic for the place.
We pulled into the parking lot and I pulled around back. "Don't you usually valet?" the Wingman asked. "I don't feel like being bothered." I told him. I wasn't really in a party mood, truthfully. We head up to the door. The bouncer out front looks at me and announces, "Yo, man. I don't want to offend you or nothing but has anyone told you that you look just like the dad on Fresh Prince." The wingman cracks up with laughter and the bouncer laughs along with him. I smile like a doofus and shake his extended hand. Smiting him is not really an option.
We head in and pay the cover. The wingman shoots me a look. "How much again?" he asks. "$20" I tell him. We aren't used to paying cover in Philly. :/ We head on in and walk down the long entry hallway. I glance over at the club merchandise they have on display and when I look up, a tall lady in a long black dress is rushing over to me. "Hello!" she greets us exhuberantly. "Welcome to *club name*." She grabs my hand and pumps it twice, then does the same to the wingman. "Are you guys having a good night?" She steps in close, encouraging a through examination of a very generous portion of powdered cleavage. "Can I get you guys a beer?" She steps back to reveal a large ice table full of beer. Normally, I pass this particular form of service by as quickly as possible. But she is very charming, in a flattering, airhead sort of way. I suspect this is an act to turn on the guys but I like it. She is also as tall as I am, rare in a lady, and looks me dead in the eye. I shrug and ask for my favorite beer. She frowns an exhaggeratedly disappointed little frown and offers me Corona. Well, it *IS* cinco de mayo. "Sure," I agree. She turns to work on the wingman. He declines. She insists. I point out that he doesn't drink. "Oh. Recovering?" she asks. He frowns, not understanding. I laugh at the incongruity of it. "He just doesn't drink. He's my DD." She seems to accept that. She takes my $20 and makes a big production of my change. "I'm gonna give you a $10 and 6 $1s. No...no..wait...how about a $5 and 11 $1s." I chuckle at her antics. The wingman rolls his eyes, annoyed. Which makes it all the funnier to me.
Armed with my Corona, I step into the main club, headed for the back corner where we normally sit. As usual, it is mostly empty. The seats in the far, dark, isolated corner are empty. We sit and relax. "Why do we always sit here?" The wingman asks. "Because these seats are immune to waitresses." I tell him. Sure enough, as if on cue, three different waitresses walk by, look at me, and keep walking, pointedly ignoring us. "Yeah, but this corner gets ignored by girls too," He points out. I chuckle. Eventually, one of the waitesses comes over and, ignoring her instincts, takes our order, His...coke. Mine...Patron. She returns with the drinks shortly later. I sit and watch the stage, watching the girls pass by. The curse of the corner seats is too much for any of them to overcome.
As we sit and chill, watching the ladies glance our way and move on, I begin to wonder if this a great idea. Eventually, a gorgeous black dancer in a slinky, sparkly black dress comes over. She looks us over and extends a hand to the wingman, introducing herself as Miss D. She shakes my hand as well. Once the introductions are complete, she immediately says, "You guys have a good time." and walks off. Just like that. We both did a double take. "What was that?" I ask. "Maybe she has to go on stage." he suggests. We watch as she sits down with another custy. "Nope. I think she is just exceptionally good at reading people." "enh?" he asks. "Well," I reply. "Were you interested?" He shrugs, "not really." I nod. "Me neither. Maybe it only took her 5 seconds to figure that out."
We sit some more. Bored. Another dancer stops by. She tries some game, but she is too soft spoken for me to hear much. She says something like, "Do you guys do dances?" "Well, yeah. of course." I tell her. "Oh, you want one from me?" "Ummm...not right now. thanks." She shrugs and walks off. I check the stage and the middle dancer has a nice look. She is wearing a stripped top and has short black hair. She is somewhat reminiscent of Miss S, my favorite dancer from this club, since retired. I decide to tip. I get up and wander up to the stage. She comes over and I offer up $3. She smiles and introduces herself. She takes the tip and kisses my cheek. I smile and head to the washroom. I then head back up front to the beer girl. As she is playing with my limes, I see a bachelor party of about 16 people being lead to a circle of seats right by the front. One of the guys has brought his own girl and he is all over her...his hands tracing the clinging curves of her dress as they walk.
Armed with a fresh Corona, I return to the seats. The wingman is still sitting and still bored. I sit some more when the chair next to me is moved. I look up and the bouncer is making another circle of chairs directly in front of us...between us and the rest of the club. I look at the wingman who is looking at me. "Bachelor Party." I say. He nods. As I am sitting, watching the crowd, I notice that the guy who brought the curvy chick is sitting with her on his lab, continuing to check her for braille. As I watch them, I see a dancer stand up in their party. She has long lovely red hair in pony tails and a red plaid, zippered skirt. She is talking to another member of the large group and doesn't like what she hears. She moves on. She turns and I see that she is wearing small eyeglasses and is ridiculously cute. She looks something like Jenny but more real. Where Jenny is empyreal and airy, this girl is more girl-next-door and sultry. She is gorgeous.
I am mesmorized. I watch her pointedly as she walks around the club. She checks with a guy at the stage and then moves to the bachelor party in front of us. She tries the game on at least three of them but no takers. I personally don't see how they can resist her but I have always been a sucker for redheads. She abandons them and moves to a guy alone at a table next to them. As I watch her try the game on him, the wingman asks me about the music playing. I try to focus on his question but my brain won't attach. I am just staring. The lonely guy is, like me, made of weak material, because she gets up and slides over to the wall chairs where people are doing dances. She pulls him along after her without touching him, kind of like Pepe le Pew. I swear, I saw his feet leave the floor as he practically floated after her. He sits down and she gets ready to begin and I start out of my reverie. I shake my head and blink a few times. Whatever else I want, I can't watch another man's dance. It would be rude.
I turn back to the wingman and his question floats through my head. I shake the cobwebs out and try to frame the answer. "I wanna say DHT...I think it was DHT...no no, wait...it was Hilary Duff. It was a dance remix of her new song. I am ashamed to say that I like that song." He grins. "I knew it sounded familiar." At no point do I discuss the redhead with him. I don't know why...normally I would have said something. But I didn't. I look up over the bar and I see Barry Bonds on the screen. It is Sportscenter and it is the Giants game. I am up and across the club in a shot. I hadn't seen the score yet. Giants won 9-4. Barry had a Homer and 3 walks. Good Omen. I return to my seat and Miss D is sitting with the wingman. He does not look enthused. "Hello, again." I say to her. I drink some more Corona and realize I am about to run dry. I confess to the assembliage that I might be a tad drunk. Miss D grins. "I've been drinking Corona all night." "Oh?" I reply, "you want another one?" She is momentarily taken aback. "Umm...Sure." I get up. "I'll get it." "We have cocktail waitresses for that." She admonishes me. "Nah. I don't mind. I like the beer girl. You want lime?" "lemon." she orders.
I head over to the beer girl. She is flirting with a big guy who wore jeans and a t-shirt to a strip club. "Where's my dollar?" she is asking him. I raise an eyebrow. She turns to me. "Would you tell him that I deserve a dollar for this?" With that, she turns, places both hands on the counter, and begins to energetically vibrate her entire body with special attention to her ass. It is quite a sight. I say nothing but I fish out a dollar and hold it out to her. She takes it from me and looks at him with a look of vindication. He just shrugs. "You like poetry?" she asks him. "Not about death." he replies. What? "Here," she tells him, handing him a notebook. "Read this." She goes over to fish out a Corona for me. "Two." I tell her. "one with lemon." She nods. I give her the usual tip and she returns to arguing with the dude over the poetry.
GenWar
05-06-2007, 05:19 PM
I return to the table. I give Miss D her Corona and take a long pull from mine. She looks at her beer and says, "While I love getting a drink, I would love selling a lap dance more." I say nothing but the look on my face betrays my thoughts. She reads it, "'Now she tells me...' You're thinking." I nod my assent, as it is indeed what I was thinking. She laughs. By this time, she has moved around to sit next to me. The wingman has tuned us out. We chat some more and she keeps the talk of a dance constantly present in the conversation. She doesn't understand me but she figures she is gonna make a sale here so she keeps it up until I get agreeable. At this point, I look over at the wingman and he HAS BEEN JOINED BY THE REDHEAD. Holy FUCK! How does he rate? I kick him pointedly on the foot 6 times...3 times, followed by 2 times, followed by 1 time. It won't tell him the message just that there is a message. I hope he figures it out. Miss D leans over and says something to them but I don't follow it.
Miss D is now dancing for me and it is a good lap dance. It doesn't make me question my understanding of the universe but I am not lamenting the $20 spent either. When she is done, she asks for another but I decline. She starts to get dressed and I glance around. The Redhead is dancing for the wingman. Miss D sees me watching and says, "Yeah, she is a pro." "It's the sweet fucking irony of life, is what it is." I tell her, some bitterness in my voice. "What?" she looks at me. Looks at me looking at her. "Oh." she says. She gets it. "Yeah..." she comments slowly. "She's good." She sits back down and we drink some more beer and stare at each other for a moment. The Redhead and the wingman get up and head towards VIP. "I'll be back..." he tells me. "I hate you so fucking much." I reply pointedly, smiling away any sting in the words. He just grins. I look at Miss D. "I told you she was good." is all she says.
We talk some more. Miss D is making to move off but she never follows through. Body language has her leaving but she stays. She tries to sell me on VIP but I am not buying. She frowns and then kind of loses her temper with me a bit. She starts talking to me about how hard it is and what is going down and etc etc. I realize that she is pissed at me because I won't buy VIP. I talk her down a bit and lay on some CS to try and reassure. She tries to shrug it off and remain pissed but she isn't really feeling her anger and it dies down a little. We talk some more. She says something like..."so your wife is a redhead then." Umm..."How did you know I was married?" I ask. I don't wear a ring. "I am very observant." she tells me. ok. "My wife is a blonde." I tell her. She chuckles without mirth. I realize belatedly that she thinks I won't go in VIP because of race. I try to talk her around that, which is not true but the opinion is too well seated to be disrupted. She assures me that she doesn't care, with enough heat in her voice to give lie to the words. I sigh and finish my beer. "I need another Corona. You want one?" I ask her. She looks at me. "Tell you what," she says. "I am gonna go freshen up. If you want to get me another beer, that's fine. I'll be back and drink it and then I am going to give you another lap dance. Sound like a plan?" "It's a deal." I tell her. She wanders off.
I sit for a second and run through the conversation in my head. I realize that we are both doing a terrible job tonight. She has read me all wrong, deducing that I am broke, that I don't like black chicks and that I am too chicken shit to tell her to get lost. None of this is true. While I am jonesing for the redhead in a bad way, I do genuinely like Miss D's company and she is not at all unattractive. The wingman wanders back and sits down. "Good time?" I ask. "Oh yes." he grins. That's all he ever says...he never "dances" and tells. If she were completely awful, he'd tell me. but, short of that, the redhead could be the greatest dancer in the world or barely competent and I'd never be able to tell from him. "I'll be back." I tell him. I head back out to the beer girl.
I walk up and she is facing the back wall which is mirrored. She has a makeup case which has spilled on the counter. She is using the tight bristled brush to remove power from the marble countertop and apply it liberally to her face and chest. Despite myself, I find the scene adorable. She turns around and helps the customer in front of me. As they chat, he tips her a dollar by stuffing it down her cleavage. She laughs and encourages it as his entire hand disappears between her breasts. He leaves and I step up. She starts popping Corona's for me. "Where did that dollar go?" I ask her. She looks down and grins. It isn't visible. She reaches in and, ostensibly, moves it around. "So that it won't fall out." She says with a smile. I laugh. She gives me 2 beers and charges me for one with a wink. I put the cost of the other one in her tip jar, lighting her up more than ever before. "Thanks." she says, sounding almost genuine for a second. I give her a wink back and head back into the club.
I return to the seats. We are in the back corner of the club and our table is in the corner, hidden from view. I kick another of the tiny tables in front of us and place Miss D's corona on the middle of the table, in plain sight. I sit down and begin drinking mine. I realize that I am now doing pretty darn well. It is that fuzzy, undetailed drunk that one gets from beer. I dont' like it...it makes me feel stupid. :( As I sit, the one dancer from stage stops by. She sees the mints on the table and grins at me. "I remember you. You're the candy man." "Remember me?" I ask. She flops on my lap and laughs. "Yes. You're the one who talks online with Miss B." She wiggles her fingers at me in the universal sign language for Internet use. I laugh and give her some CS but she has me pegged outside the realm of customer. She wanders off, with a parting warning about not eating too much candy.
I sit with the wingman, who laments the lack of girls and lack of hustle in this club. I do like the club because there are a couple of really fun girls but, in general, it lacks energy and style for me and it lacks girls and hustle for the wingman, so it isn't really a good choice. After a short while, Miss D wanders back over. She sees her beer sitting in front of us and makes an exclamation of mock surprise. She grabs it and sits down next to me, taking a long pull from it. As she does, the DJ calls her to stand by. We sit in silence for a bit, drinking the beers. She doesn't seem to have it in her to try any more game...tired of my rejection and convinced that I am uninterested. She askes why I came to this club so I tell her about the SWers I know who work this club. "I guess they're not working tonight." "Who?" she asks. I tell her about Miss B and her friend, whom I hadn't met. She's like, "Wait. Miss B and her friend? What's her friend's name?" "Well, online, it's Miss C but I don't know if that is a dancer name." Miss D smirks at me. "Yes, Miss C. That's the red head." I shake my head. "No...she doesn't really look like that...at least not in the pictures I've seen." Miss D is certain. "That's her. Trust me I know." I don't believe her but I know better than to argue it further. We quiz the wingman, who isn't real great with dancer names but he too thinks it is her. I began to doubt.
As I turn back to miss D, she makes noises like she is going to leave for the night. "I thought we had a deal." I say. She looks at me, needing me to say it. I remind her of the terms, making it clear that I expect to buy another dance. She grins. "You say this now, with me about the head on stage." I shrug. "I'm not going anywhere." I tell her. The song ends and she jumps up, quickly finishing the beer, and heads for the stage.
I let the song wind down a bit and get up. I head over to the stage and the short haired girl with the striped top is in the middle again. I stop and give her a couple of bucks and head down to the far end. Miss D sees me and smiles. I slip her a Lincoln and wander over to the washroom. When I done, I realize I am down to $20s. I promise the attendant that I'll come back. I head back out to the beer girl. "Two more?" She asks. "just one." "Ok..I am closing out for the night." I grin. "Thanks for all the beer." I tell her. "You're most welcome." I get my change in $1s, head back to the bathroom for a quick tip and then swing by the stage to give a few more bills to Miss D. Completing the circuit, I collapse into my seat. The wingman is chatting with some girl. I relax and wait for Miss D to return.
She does and gives me the forceful demand approach. She starts dancing. It is pretty good as before. The song ends. She asks me, "Just one?" "you can't stop dancing during Prince." I tell her. She grins and continues. After another song, she ends and thanks me for the time, beer and company. I put her money and a small tip in the back string of her dress. She grabs it, counts it and thanks me again before moving off.
GenWar
05-06-2007, 05:19 PM
At this point, last call has come and gone. The wingman is looking at me like...time to go. He is clearly done. I know it is time to go but I don't leave. I can't figure out why. It feels...unfinished. "Why am I still here?" I wonder aloud. "And there she is..." The wingman says. I look at him and follow his gaze. Miss C, if that is, in fact, who the redhead is, has emerged from VIP. She is walking purposefully, so I assume she is departing for the evening. But she stops at a customer and sits down. I watch intently. 2 minutes of conversation and she moves on to a group standing by the bar. She winds through them, giving each the full on attention, daring them to help her finish the night. They all wuss out. She starts to circle back around the stage and head our way. She checks a couple more custys. Finally, she reaches our end and comes up to the wingman. They chat briefly and I endeavor to not listen.
She then turns to me. "I suppose I should say hi." I introduce myself. She sits on my lap. I grin at her, mainly because I can't help it. "Do you know me?" I ask. "Of course I do." she replied. That pretty much dismisses all doubts. We chat for a short bit before she goes to an ask. Now, we haven't cleared Rule 12 so I make some declining noises. It's late, yada yada. "It's not to late for a quick dance." She smiles at me. I melt like the poor, weak drunken loser I am. "ok...time for a quick one." She starts dancing mid song and it is a very nice dance. I am enjoying myself when the song changes and the next song is...the theme from the A-team. And not just the music...the introduction with the talking and stuff. I am like..."what the heck?" We laugh at it and badmouth the DJ and she dances to the end of the "song." She steps back, smiles and says, "You aren't going to make me get dressed for the last song, are you?" I realize that I am out of my league. If it were earlier and I were sober, I might be able to hold my own against a force like that. Miss D's words float through my head..."I told you she was good." I just smile and shake my head...not trusting any of my customer shit or even my voice at this point.
I am like..."I don't even know what to call that." She chuckles..."How about one plus a tip?" I give the cost of one song and all the remaining money in my tipping pocket. She thanks me. "I don't know what to call you." I shrug. "Anything is fine. Gen works. or (my name) is fine too." I ask what night she works. Of course, she names nights that are not at all conducive for easy scheduling. Just my luck. Like I'll ever get the wingman back in this club on a Saturday night :( I tell her I'll try, cuz I will. She thanks me again and heads off. I watch her go.
The wingman gets up, as the club is emptying to the strains of the "last song", Frank Sinatra. we walk towards the door. I stop at one of the bouncers and say, "I never got a dance to the theme from the A-team before." He laughs and says the DJ likes to screw around. Heh. We walk out the front. The wingman gives me the look that he gives me when I screw up his night. "At least the Yanks won." I offer. As we reach the car, we are laughing at the DJ. "In all fairness, we should have left when he played the Kid Rock song. I mean, is it his fault we can't take a hint?"
We mount up and he pulls out of the parking lot. I stay awake long enough to put on my 80's CD and give him directions to the freeway and I pass out.
SportsWriter2
05-06-2007, 08:24 PM
Gen, you're the Henry James of strip club reports. I like the way you detail the development of misunderstandings large and small. Most guys don't even know what's happening.
Smokeless
05-06-2007, 09:44 PM
^^^ Indeed. Your TR's are half the reason for staying tuned to SW. Great stories.
CuriousJ
05-07-2007, 10:57 AM
Thanks for the great report Gen , it was a good read .
lestat1
05-07-2007, 07:27 PM
Gen...how do you do it? I could sit in the club thinking all night and not figure out what a 2 minute conversation meant or the endlessly bizarre dancer behavior I encounter each visit.
crizgolfer
05-07-2007, 09:04 PM
I have enjoyed reading these TR’s. GenWar’s are awesome. Figured I would give it a try.
Here I am in northern Ohio again staring at 72 hours of straight work. Our resort is sold out so they put me up in a crappy Holiday Inn Express with 8 channels on TV and a non-existent internet connection. I am restless as this is my last free night before the big push on this project. I need to get out, but have no idea where to go.
Did I mention that there was no internet connection? I needed to find a club so I had to resort to the web browser on my Motorola Q. I browse to TUSCL and start a search of nearby clubs. Most of the clubs that have decent ratings are 30 to 40 miles away. I find one that is only 5 miles away. It has two crappy ratings, but I figure what the hell? I browse to Map Quest and get myself directions to this Palace of Wonderment.
I leave the hotel at 7 pm ( I like to go early) and make the 10 minute drive. I drive up and down the road as I miss the place on the first couple of passes. Finally, I see it and there are only two cars in the parking lot. I pull in thinking so few customers could work in my favor (always the optimist). I approach the door, give it a tug, and it is locked. Seeing as I am an educated man I decide I should read the sign on the door. It reads “Closed”. Crap, they do not open until 9 pm.
I head back to the hotel to watch my 8 crappy channels for a couple hours and then venture out yet again. This time I find the club on the first pass (I learn things like this…sort of like a lab rat). It is shortly after 9 pm as I approach the door and give it a tug. It is locked. Being an educated man I decide to read the sign that says “Please ring bell.” I do it. The owner opens the door and I ask him about the “Members Only” sign on the door (again, I have finally found a good use for my education). He “confides” in me that the sign is only there to allow him to turn away “undesirables”. I pass him $5 for my membership (oh how good it feels to belong) and he allows me to enter. Thus he has not labeled me as one of the “undesirables.” I figure it is because I have showered and brushed my teeth (this is the only reason I could figure he would allow someone of my shadiness into his fine establishment).
I stand in the doorway taking in the sights. I scan the décor, the bar, and the stage. I take in a breath to get the aura of this Palace of Wonderment. I make the carefully crafted assessment that this place is a real shit hole. I enter anyway with the thought that the beautiful dancers (I am the optimist) would help make me forget the atmosphere. It takes me about one minute to realize I am wrong yet again. I am often wrong (just ask my ex-wife), but I cannot remember a time in my life when I have been THIS wrong.
The three dancers that were in my sight were how should I say? Perhaps a species related to Homosapien, but definitely not Homosapien. I figure the Jack Daniels is good, so I sit at the bar with the stage right behind me. I talk with the bartender as she is a significant upgrade from any of the dancers. My back is to the stage as each dancer gets up to do her set (I am trying to not make eye contact so as not to encourage any of them). I can see who is on stage as there is a mirror behind the bar and no matter how hard I try to avert my gaze it wanders up. This peak is followed by a frown as I drop my gaze to my JD & Diet Coke ( I am trying to watch my girlish figure…although the dancers in this place could use much more help in that area).
After half an hour I finish my first drink. I have managed to keep my gaze away from the stage and have been enjoying myself as the bartender is quite nice. We are having an entertaining conversation when suddenly my eyes hit the mirror. What do I see? An absolutely gorgeous woman! I spin around on my chair, tear off my shirt to reveal my true identity. Super PL! I figure this is my chance to salvage this visit. I immediately walk to the stage and introduce her to my cousin…Mr. Andrew Jackson. I ask her to join me when she is done doing her thing. She smiles and says, “I will come find you”. I do not want her to get lost on the way so I point to the direction of my seat…nearly poking the bartender in the eye (did I mention this club is real small?).
Finally, she is done. She smiles at me and says, “I’ll be right out…I need to freshen up.” Now, this lady is perfect by my estimation. She is in her early thirties with an all natural figure. Nice breasts, hips, and legs. She was wearing a kind of tie-dyed teddy that really augmented her features well. She also had this fantastic smile when she approached. Super PL kicks in as she approaches. I offer her a drink and we sit at the bar talking.
We are having a good time. The conversation is good. The bartender keeps tabs on us and decides to buy us a shot. I say okay…only ONE. The talk continues and she says she just started dancing again a few months ago. She has had three kids in the last three years. I am thinking, “damn, I have never given birth and I don’t look this good.” I compliment her and ask her what her secret is. She tells me that she likes to pick up sexy men like me and screw their brains out (okay, this part of the conversation never happened…I took artistic liberties).
Anyway, after a half-hour she hits the stage again. I decide to go sit at the tip rail. I spin around on my chair and hop off nearly landing on the stage (oh yeah, did I mention this place is real small?). I take a seat and there is only one other guy at the tip rail. She finishes with him and collects her dollar in about 15 seconds. The next two songs are mine. They had a metal bar that ran across the top of the stage. She grabs hold of it and lifts her legs up over my shoulder giving me an up close view of all her womanly beauty. I can hardly contain myself, but yet I do remain the gentleman (PL would be a better description). She is grinding her goodness into my face and it is good…so good. I do believe she has helped me find God. I wasn’t actually looking for him, but he was there…oh yes he was…
After the second song ends she sits on the edge of the stage with her legs still draped over my shoulders. She wraps her legs around me and pulls me closer. Grabs the collar of my shirt and asks how I enjoyed her show. I decided to play it cool and handed her my platinum card ( just kidding). I handed her one twenty for song one…one twenty for song two….and a third twenty for her to join me at the bar again. She hopped up and said “I need to freshen up again…I will be right out”. She shows up fifteen minutes later in a new outfit. A nice skin tight white teddy. Oh my…how I wanted to read her a bedtime story.
We sit at the bar and talk for a bit when another man requests a dance from her. She looks at me and asks if it is okay. I tell her to go take care of business and then come back…we are not done yet. She does a few songs for him and then returns. I really enjoy her as I am an incurable flirt. I flirt with nearly every woman I meet and this one plays along masterfully. After a bit we decide it is time for a few dances.
She takes me to the back corner of the room. There was no private area in here which I really do not like. There is only one perv that I want to watch my privates…and that perv is me. We do three songs at $10 each. Her dances are great by my standards. She is very physical, but not slutty. I am not into extras, but I don’t like air dances either. She touched all the right spots in a very seductive way. She either figured out what really turns me on, or she got lucky. The dances are over and I pass another $20 to her and ask that she join me for one more drink. We spend the next half hour in good conversation. Finally, I decide it is time to leave. She leans over and gives me a hug. Asks if I will come back before leaving town and I say that is probably not possible. I slip another $80 in her garter and she gives me nice kiss on the cheek and then a light kiss on the lips. With that I am out the door. Into the night and back at the Holiday Inn Express watching my 8 crappy channels.
GenWar
05-07-2007, 09:56 PM
Nice one, Criz. Thanks for the read.
"I do believe she has helped me find God. I wasn’t actually looking for him, but he was there…oh yes he was…"
I've been there. It was almost Deja Vu.
-gen
P.S. Check out 7 or 8...probably one of them is ESPN.
GenWar
05-07-2007, 10:00 PM
Gen...how do you do it? I could sit in the club thinking all night and not figure out what a 2 minute conversation meant or the endlessly bizarre dancer behavior I encounter each visit.
It's a hobby. *shrug* I enjoy it. It does have it's downside. I have had dancers literally YELL at me. I have offended dancers to the point where they can no longer work (They weren't that attached to working to start with. The ones who would let ME get to em rarely are.) Chemistry is a magical thing but it can be a delicate thing and the slightest misstep and you are worse than the grabby a$$hole. Not on an well adjusted, mentally stable lady like the SWers, of course. But, believe it or not, some of the ladies I have had occasion to meet are not quite structually sound from an emotional standpoint.
'Sides...round the home area parts that we share, it never works that way. Even the "upscale" club (you know the one) doesn't offer decent conversational/chemistry opportunities. Which is just as well...mrs. Gen would never see me.
We should go out sometime, `stat. You can observe why the wingman is often quoted as saying, "If I live to be 100, gen, I will NEVER understand you."
-gen
lestat1
05-12-2007, 11:34 PM
'Sides...round the home area parts that we share, it never works that way. Even the "upscale" club (you know the one) doesn't offer decent conversational/chemistry opportunities. Which is just as well...mrs. Gen would never see me.
We should go out sometime, `stat. You can observe why the wingman is often quoted as saying, "If I live to be 100, gen, I will NEVER understand you."
-gen
That'd be fun, though I don't think we're quite in the same area. You're central (Syracuse area?), I'm upstate (Albany area).
GenWar
05-13-2007, 08:29 AM
Nope. I'm Albany area too. `Cuse has better clubs but I don't think I'd want to live there. :(
moscm
05-15-2007, 04:13 PM
This thursday, I'm going to go out for the first time since January. I'll visit at least two strip clubs. Aww hellz yeah.
Howie
05-17-2007, 02:13 PM
I thought I had lost my desire to frequent strip clubs after attaining the HG while in the club. (See previous TR). Figured that it would be all downhill after that. Alas, I was wrong. She’d been calling, emailing and sending me text messages on a pretty consistence manner. I answered a few calls and emails and gently put her of saying I was too busy with work to make the trip over to see her. She had volunteered to come to see me, but I nixed that as being too much of a distraction from my work which was taking up every waking hour I had.
One morning she called as I was getting ready to leave for the office. She told me that she’d gotten her kids off to school and had just taken a shower.
“I’m laying naked on my bed thinking about our last time at the club.”
I inquired as to what she was doing naked on the bed and she said she was masturbating with her dildo thinking about me and how much fun we could have together.
Totally befuddled, I stammered “When are you working again?”
“This Wednesday. It would be great to see you. I promise I’ll make it a worthwhile visit for you.”
“Ah, ah, ah, okay!”
So Wednesday night rolled around and while working late once again I seriously debated whether I really wanted to make the trip or not. I figured I’d skip, until she called about 10pm saying she was waiting for me and that the club was really dead and that if I came to see her, she’d make sure I had a good time. So I figured what the hell, once more won’t hurt anything.
Finally made it to the club about midnight and she was right. There were only two cars in the customer parking lot. Inside there were that many customers and about 8 dancers.
My dancer sees me immediately and grabs my hand and leads me to VIP. In there, we’re all by ourselves, which means a lot of freedom for interaction between us. After about 5 or 6 dances, she has to go on stage and I tell her that I need to pay her cause it’s late and I really have to go home and get some rest. She won’t take my money because she thinks I won’t leave until I’ve paid her and she wants to spend some more time with me. She instructs me to stay where I’m sitting and wait until she gets off stage and once back, she’ll fuck my brains out. Not wanting to argue, I do as she says. She had me pretty worked up by this point and when I think the second song of her set is almost over, I go into the RR in the VIP and slip on a raincoat just in case she was serious.
After her stage set, she comes back into VIP, sits on my lap and proceeds to unzip my slacks and extracts my member. She’s surprised I’m wearing a condom and asks why. Told her it’s for her and my protection. Said she didn’t like condoms and was sure we didn’t have anything to worry about. Said it was ribbed for her pleasure and I guess she didn’t want to argue and then mounted me and started grinding away. She was really into it and was bouncing up and down to the point I had to tell her to not be so obvious. Funny that I was the one who was worried about getting caught, not her. She stopped and we just embraced for a little while until she started up again and it wasn’t too much longer before I could no longer contain my pleasure and I popped. About that time another dancer and customer came into VIP and she was almost in a panic about someone seeing us. When it appeared that they were engaged and not paying any attention to us she got off me and stuffed me back in my pants. I was wearing a pair of kaki slacks and the front of my slacks had an obvious wet area. She’s like “Oh my god, I came all over you.” Well rather than take a walk of shame in front of anyone else at the club, we decided that I should leave and no one would see.
She’s called twice leaving messages about when we can get together OTC, but I haven’t bothered to response.
The Snark
05-19-2007, 03:19 PM
It sounds like you've got yourself a girlfriend, Howie.
datchapin
05-26-2007, 03:54 PM
It's been awhile since last time I posted. So here goes nothing. Last night I get the hankering to see Shakira so I decide to go see if I'm lucky. I get up there and ask the doorgirls if she was working tonight. Nope, guess it wasn't my lucky night, but I was already there so you got me fucked up if I'm leaving like that. So I go in and take a seat, it's kind of busy so I get no service. After a few minutes I say fuck it and go to the bar to get a sprite. As the bartender serves me up we start talking. Dude was pretty cool and I ended up chilling at the bar longer than I expected. So I turn around and there's only one table open. So I chunk duece to the bartender as I bob and weave through traffic with the elegance of a dumbass. I get to the table and set my drink down thinking, cool got a nice table. I'm reaching into my pocket when the table right next to mine with a better view of the stages empties out. Mutherfucker... so I get up all suave like and stroll to the now empty table and park my ass down. I pull out my cigs and relax surveying my kingdom. lol. (Sarcasm, but I was feeling like the shit last night so yeah.) As I'm sitting there I look to the second floor and get a view of the girl dancing up there. We make eye contact and she smiles at me. Like a PL I look around to see who she's waving at and there's nobody else looking up there in my vicinity so I turn back and wave up at her. I never seen this chick, but the game was tight how she caught me like that. She shook her ass in my direction and brought a smile to my face. I made a mental note to get a dance from her whenever the chance presented itself. So I'm chilling and a waitress comes and asks if I'm doing good. Yup, I sure am. It's short lived however.
I see this girl I got a lap dance from last week. (I'll call her shady, because she had just started last time and she came from a shady club. Nothing wrong with her old club just the customers that frequent it.) So Shady strolls up to me and looks me dead the eyes and asks. “Do I know you?” Now, I'm usually a multi-dancer buyer, but this chick had told me she was light contact and when we're up there I left my glasses on and the bitch knocked them off with her titties. Nice tities, but after I folded up my glasses and put them on the ground she starts slapping my face with her tits. Let me repeat, slapping my face with her tits. We were done at that moment. So this bitch who suffers from alzheimers is standing there looking at me expecting my patronage damn near made me laugh. I looked at her and replied, “Yeah, you know me.” and my look must have made it clear that I wasn't having shit to do with her, because she walked away. Body language is a beautiful thing. Lol. So I continue my relaxing existence for now.
So a few minutes go by when I see Luna come out of the dressing room. She goes out to the front desk to get some breath mints. I'm thinking, yup I'm loosing some money tonight. So I'm organizing my thoughts get dances from other girls and then give the rest to Luna at the end of the night. As I'm thinking this Shady comes back up to me and this dumb bitch tries to straddle me and asks if I'm gonna buy a dance. I'm starting to get up and she asks if I got a girl. I don't know if she was referring to a ATF or a GF, but in either case I said yes. She backs up and says oh... I guess I don't wanna get you in trouble, I spot Luna coming back on the floor and make a bee-line for her. She spots me right before I get to her and says, hey babe. I whisked her away to LD land. At that moment I would have taken any girl just to get away from Shady. Luna was not the chick I wanted to see just yet, but hey who cares, I like her and she loves my money. Lol.
So we get to the back and she sits on my lap. Have I ever said how beautiful this chick is? She's got these big ole' round perfect tetas. I'm not sure if their fake, I think they are, but don't care enough to ask. She has a flat I mean flat stomach and a perky ass that is like the perfect apple bottom and she's tall, almost my height in the tall mid-thigh boots she wears. I'm a six-footer so I'm guessing without shoes she's like 5'4''. All that was packed into this tiny ass dress that has the cleavage showing through what looks like a torn hole in the chest. Like the tetas are just begging to be let out. Then she's got these beautiful brown eyes and a smile that is just radiant and a dimple a single dimple that. Damn, what can I say makes me totally forget all the cares in the world. She sits there and asks me what I've been doing and I'm thinking. I've been waiting for this moment, I just hadn't known it. Lol, I didn't say that, but I know it would sound like CS to her so I just make a quick rundown of what I've been up to. We keep chatting until the song starts and she pulls her dress down and pulls it up so it's just a strap under her tetas.
She starts off slowly making eye contact and smiling at me and leans in and gives me one her kisses. Just barely touching my lips. I'm thinking, strawberries and then she opened her mouth slightly and I'm thinking, goddamn them mints are strong and refreshing. She pulls away and starts grinding away in her slow tempo. So then she lays on top of me and I motorboat a little bit. I know it's stupid and I don't usually do it, but we both got a kick out of it. Because she pulls back giggling and asks wtf was that. To which I reply that was funny. She leans in and gives me another kiss and says I'm adorable. I can't stop smiling now. Neither can she, but ever the pro that she is she keeps dancing. After a few moments she starts hovering those fun bags right in front of my face and lips moving her nipples around my mouth and I start thinking... I've already thought to much. I open my mouth slightly and she pops the nipple in my mouth. I closed my eyes and start playing with them, after a while I move on to the other one. I pull my head back after a little to try and recompose myself, but she's not having that as I leaned my head back she dived onto my neck and started kissing it and nibbling on it moving up to my ear and nibbling on it and licking it and what can I say I'm loving the shit. The first song comes to an end.
She gets up and goes to fetch our drinks. She was having an evian water (or is it avian. I forget.) So she sits on my lap and we toast. She then asks me if I've been practicing? I'm like practicing what? She reminds me about an upcoming competition which I said I'd take her to. I'm like FUCK, but say yeah, I've practiced once in a while. Then I say how come she remembers that, but not something like my name. She giggles at this and asks who says she forgot my name. She smiles at me daring me to say something stupid. I oblige. At which point she says “ay chapin how could I forget such a special guys name.” I'm floored, she never uses my name so I just assumed, before I could recover she asks. “Do you remember my real name?” Duh, of course I don't, but I tried to recall it anyways. I had no idea so I just apologized instead of ticking off names in hopes I'd get it. Then she pulls this gem out. “Shame on you Chapin, if you had remembered I might have given you a treat.” FUCK MAN, even now I'm fucking racking my brain to try and remember. You can bet your ass if I remember I'm gonna get my ass back up there to see what the treat is. Anyways she insists on seeing my routines and shit and I'm all like how about I just do a little strip dancing instead and she keeps insisting on it until finally she says, every song I dance she'll match no cost.
So I'm now stretching and thinking of doing some slow easy shit when she says. Oh you gotta put real effort into it otherwise it won't count. SHIT! That cut my time down substantially. So I start getting into my shit and I learned that Luna is a damn slave driver. Do that again, how do you that move, oh how long can you hold yourself on one hand, oh can you do that part again and try it without that one step it should look better. DAMN! After the third song, I'm done. I'm breathing hard and sweating and thinking I need some water, fuck anything else because I'm feeling dehydrated. I don't wanna walk out on the floor covered in sweat so I give her some money to go get us some water. I now understand why all she drinks is water.
So she comes back and I took the liberty of taking off one of my shirts. She comes in smiling and straddles me. She notes that I'm soaked in sweat. I apologize. She says she can't do dances for me in my condition. I'm like WTF?! In my head, but I ask her what we're gonna do instead. I'm thinking I'm not that drenched and I'm thinking about arguing as the song starts when she shows me her solution. She pulls my shirt over and behind my head. I'm not sure how to better describe it, but that's what she did. So I'm not mad as she starts dancing, this is new to me so I roll with it. Lol. The skin on skin as she pressed herself against me felt great. I'm loving her tetas on my chest and belly as she slithers up and down. I don't ask, but I think she's digging it too. She mixes in short sporadic makeout sessions as we dance. I love the way she kisses so slowly and the minty taste as she slowly traces her tongue around my mouth. She turns around and starts dancing with her back towards me. At this juncture I wrap my arms around her and realize I've never tried to touch her pussy, don't know why I haven't with her, just never thought about it I guess. Anyways I decide better late than never and start sliding my hand between her legs. She doesn't push them away or anything so I rub her pussy gently and begin to pull my hand away when she slowly catches my arm and keeps it there. Man, I'm thinking I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't help myself now. I start rubbing it and playing with it and soon enough I feel her thong getting moist. She leans back on me and moves her long wavy hair to the side so I have access to her neck and ears. I take it as an invitation and begin nibbling and kissing her neck and ears. We go on like this for a few more songs and I start thinking I should slide my hand inside the thong and see if I can make her cum. Lol I never get the chance as she turns around and starts necking me and fucking with my ear. She then starts moving down planting kisses on my collarbone and then works her way to my nipples. At this point she takes my nipples into her mouth and starts tearing them up. I close my eyes and just damn, love the shit. We keep going on like this for what felt like forever. After a few songs however we cool down a little bit and interject some conversations in the dances. After I dunno how long we ended our session and I left. I chatted briefly with my favorite waitress there and tipped her before I left. She said she was sorry she didn't get to wait on me, but I said not to worry about it. It was a great night regardless. I feel like the more I go to the SC the harder it is to resist falling to the dark side, because I totally wanted to fuck that night. Maybe I should chill out for a while. After these next few visits I'll chill. Scout's honor. Anyways, it was a pretty fun night.
Dammit, it's taken me about a week to get around to posting this. Since then I had another trip that I wanted to write a tr about. I dunno if or when I'll get it up, but I hope it's soon. Otherwise I'll get backlogged and never post TR's lol. Oh another thing I realized that night is that I have to have different atf's because if I only had one I don't know how I would keep myself from falling for any of them.
mr_punk
05-26-2007, 06:36 PM
I feel like the more I go to the SC the harder it is to resist falling to the dark side, because I totally wanted to fuck that night.uhh...i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but....
At this juncture I wrap my arms around her and realize I've never tried to touch her pussy, don't know why I haven't with her, just never thought about it I guess. Anyways I decide better late than never and start sliding my hand between her legs.you're already there. next time, you might want to lube your finger, chief. oh yeah, welcome to the club.
lunchbox
05-29-2007, 03:44 PM
you're already there. next time, you might want to lube your finger, chief. oh yeah, welcome to the club.
gripping holes = <3
rlams2000
05-30-2007, 06:48 PM
This TR will be short and to the point. Just a few random notes about my last SC trip.
I'm sitting at the stage and the dancer comes over to me, spreads her legs, strokes her pussy, and says "c'mon baby, tip this pussy a dollar" as she flicks her tongue at me. I was bewildered and amused.
Another dancer takes the stage and things are looking up. Until she smiles and she's missing many teeth. And then she spoke. Jed Clampett would have loved her.
I buy 2 PDs from a third dancer and she almost broke me in half with her pounding up and down on me. She tells me she's only been dancing for a few months. Really? I wouldn't have guessed that. And she was wearing this stupid glitter stuff that ended up covering me.
I buy 2 PDs from a fourth dancer and I wish dancers would quit buying those manure flavored tic-tacs. Gag.
Well, I feel better now. Good dancers are hard to find.
Bridgette
05-31-2007, 12:45 AM
Since she is headed the stage, I’ll be rid of her in a moment – wrong! She took one sip, then left her drink on my table. While she was dancing, I realized that all of the dancers sitting with custies had these cranberry drinks in large glasses – they were using them to stake out there territory and she had staked me out as her territory.Guys, here's an idea: When a dancer you don't want comes around, DON'T buy her anything. Remember where your balls are and just say NO.
If you somehow find yourself stuck with a girl you don't want and you've already bought her a drink, first try telling her you won't be buying anything else and she should go make money elsewhere, and she can take her drink with her. Then push the drink over to her, to make the point. If that doesn't work, time to resort to more drastic measures. Stand up, take your drink, and move to another table - you don't need to explain yourself because she knows what's up. Or if there are no tables available, just pick up BOTH drinks and head to the bathroom where you can dump hers out. LOL ;D
You guys are too nice to chics who pull this stupid shit, and that is precisely why they do it - you reward them for it by buying them drinks and/or being "nice".
dayzed
06-06-2007, 12:13 PM
I do my best in the SC to avoid anything approaching Fucko behavior. Fuckos to me are the lowest order of PL and a general blight on the SC landscape. However, I must confess to one fucko-like habit -- a close attention to personal hygiene when preparing for SC visit. Quoting the immortal Zbone list (http://www.zbone.com/internet/bestofzbb/bb021223.htm):
3. Do you shower and put on cologne before going to the club? AUTOMATIC FUCKO - The most you should be doing to go to a club is being clean (a shower the same day is sufficient), washing your hands and face and brushing your teeth. come on, you are not going on a fucken date here.
No doubt this is true, but I have this idea that "optimal personal presentation" = "higher mileage potential", maybe time will prove that wrong, but for now I always go the whole nine yards. The other day, I went even further than usual, let loose my inner metrosexual (i.e. got myself a trimmer) and did some "personal grooming" south of the equator. For whatever reason, I hadn't been motivated to do this before in "civilian" life, but here I was, Mr. ultra-fucko, trimming to monger.
I tend to be a binge clubber, letting loose my pent-up mongering via visitations to multiple clubs over a single day, and this was no exception. As usual I began at a lower-mileage destination where the gals are a bit more attractive and environs more pleasant. But hey, this is ESL, "lower mileage" is relative. I spent the first couple of hours having fun convo and getting hammered w/ a 21-year old who clearly had a drinking problem. (I realize that it is less than admirable to seek out dancers w/ drinking problems. I aspire to one day have the game of a MOSCD like SportsWriter, w/ his knack for bypassing obvious druggie/drunk freaks and identifying more respectable targets who ultimately prove every bit as (if not more) accommodating. I must confess, though, for now I'm kind of enjoying the drunks and druggies.)
Anyway we hit the private area for "bed dances" which to her meant situating herself in the 69 position and commencing SSTP. A couple songs later I joined in with DATY. (I normally refrain from doing this w/ stripper but after a couple songs in this position just lost my self-control.) After a few songs I told her that we should probably stop if she wasn't going to take it out (she wouldn't, or couldn't, or whatever) but she just kept ignoring me and would not get up. Okay. She was clearly hammered and I was enjoying the experience for what it was, and I guess I can be a passive PL at times. Finally around 10 or so songs later another dancer intrudes and starts bitching that it was my dancer's turn to get on stage, that she doesn't understand why she (my dancer) thinks that she can always just do whatever she wants, etc. My dancer dismounts and tells me to just pay for 4 dances, since she is the one who kept the session going. Great SS; I of course paid more than she asked and immediately made mental preparations to see her again soon. However, shortly after her subsequent stage set, she went back to dressing room and (as overheard reported by other dancer to manager) passed out drunk. All by the late hour of 2 PM! On to the next club.
[Omit description of several hours of fairly routine clubbing]
-- as the sun sets, the slippery slope of drinking and horniness lead me to the ultimate den of sin, a local "club" notorious for anything-goes mileage where the weaker-willed PLs inevitably find themselves when the clubbing day draws to close. I zoom in on a thin and attractive blond -- the type where at first you think, "how on earth did she end up dancing in a club like this" until you notice that she is sniffling like a 4-year old on the ski slopes. We share several drinks and she proves a fun and charming conversationalist, albeit totally jumpy and anxious (in keeping w/ the stereotype for her particular vice). I find myself simultaneously aroused and put off by her overall shadiness. You know the feeling I'm talking about here. Regardless, it's a foregone conclusion that I will eventually move our party to the back.
Once the time comes, I decide to take the "safer" route and opt for BJ. She draws herself up all offended and insists we have sex. Rate is same in either case, so I have to assume she was offended by my safe-route instincts. As she removes her short shorts, my power to argue melts away. BBBJ leads way to CFS, she hops on in cowgirl position. However, after only a minute or so, she dismounts and announces that she's decided that she would prefer to do the BJ as originally requested. Now it's my turn to feel offended. I mean, I know we're all revolting mongers, but when i compare myself to the other customers of this joint... anyway, as she drops to her knees, I am still distracted trying to figure out what the hell just happened. After all, my personal hygiene was so impeccable! :P
After we finish up and head back to main area, she surprises me by asking if I will have another drink w/ her. Okay fine -- but then tell me what just happened back there. She hems and haws and continues to make lame excuses so I down the drink and start to leave with whatever small shred of dignity remains intact. Last minute, she asks -- um, by chance did you... trim yourself recently? Turns out the trim was too close, or something, and irritated her skin during pelvic contact. Obviously, my metrosexual skills leave much to be desired.
Remaining shred of dignity now safely dismantled, I thank her for her honesty, and for a fun night, and make my way into the night. What can I say... it doesn't pay to be a fucko.
mr_punk
06-06-2007, 02:14 PM
The other day, I went even further than usual, let loose my inner metrosexual (i.e. got myself a trimmer) and did some "personal grooming" south of the equator. For whatever reason, I hadn't been motivated to do this before in "civilian" life, but here I was, Mr. ultra-fucko, trimming to monger.i've been shaving myself clean for years. if you want taint licking, teabagging or asian. girls are more likely to do it. if it looks like they're not going to end up flossing with your pubes. besides, it makes my 3 incher look almost like 3 1/4 inches.
Last minute, she asks -- um, by chance did you... trim yourself recently? Turns out the trim was too close, or something, and irritated her skin during pelvic contact.was she clean shaven by any chance? FYI, if you're going to trim. try scissors not a electric trimmer.
buttaskotch
06-12-2007, 06:14 AM
So I went to my local club last night. Nothing really out of the ordinary happened except for one thing she said that stuck out in my mind . . .
So I'm going on vacation for a month overseas and I told her about how I was leaving this weekend and that I wouldn't be able to see her for at least a month and she said I should come back to see her the night I got back
in which I responded, "Actually I can't, I had to quit my job so I could take this month long vacation." Which is true.
and then she said, "You don't have to give me any money, I just want to make sure you're ok, but bring me back some postcards and pictures."
Then I said, "Awwww, but I don't wanna waste your time or anything."
and she said, "You're never a waste of my time."
It definitely made my night.
and then she said, "You don't have to give me any money, I just want to make sure you're ok, but bring me back some postcards and pictures."
Then I said, "Awwww, but I don't wanna waste your time or anything."
and she said, "You're never a waste of my time."
It definitely made my night.
Enjoy it for what it was....SS.
Expertly applied SS.
Enjoy your trip!
lestat1
06-20-2007, 11:13 PM
I went to the "ghetto" club tonight to celebrate my birthday. I had both the worst and the best club experiences of my life tonight, spent the most money in a single visit in all my 11 years of clubbing, and for the first time ever, have completely fallen for StripperShit(tm). So convincing, so unexpected was it, that I'm believing "she really likes me." My unyielding armor of low self-esteem that never, ever for one second allows me to believe any of their flirtations, has been expertly breached...( how's that for an "I've got to read on!" opening? :) )
Bankroll: $500, + ~$80 in singles.
I stroll in late evening/early night. The club is a "dive strip club" with an exterior and interior that are just plain shitty. However, it offers the most contact in the area, and as I was in a celebratory mood, you get the idea. There are only a few patrons in the whole place, with about 10 dancers on staff. The stage shows are not noteworthy, so I'll start with my first mistake...
I'd planned on getting several couch dances, which are private, naked grinding, two-way touching (sans bikini areas) dances for $20 plus a $20 tip. With a $40 tip the two-way touching includes breasts (yes, my area has $60 dances - life sucks). I was eager to get started. Too eager. After a couple of quick laps, I want a couch dance, so I say yes to the dancer who, while still on stage and before I've tested her out with a lap dance, asks if I want a private dance after the show. Her set ends, I pay my $20 to the house, we get to one of the couch dance rooms, I settle in and hand her $40. The following paraphrased but fairly accurate conversation ensues:
Shauna (I'll use her 'real' stage name, because she was so awful I don't feel bad at all calling her out on this): Give me more.
Me: What?
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: ...
Shauna: You have more, right?
Me: Yeah...
Shauna: Well give me more.
Me: Now?
Shauna: Guys don't tip me after the song.
(Oh God should I ever have taken that as a sign!)
Me: Why not?
Shauna: They just don't.
Me: ...
Shauna: Do you have more?
Me: Yes.
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: Uhhh...
Shauna: Guys have have more always give me more.
Me: Well...
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: No
This continues for a few minutes - seriously, it repeats for quite a while. She finally accepts no and begins dancing. It's okay, and with my $40 tip I go for what a $40 tip has always gotten me. Yeah right, no go. That's (everyone with me now) "more." I put my hands back at her waist. She dances for about 1 minute total before ending the dance. Wow, apparently her getting ready, the trip upstairs, and our oh so wonderful chat were all part of my $60/1 song dance. Wow. Worst dance, worst dancer, and worst strip club experience ever.
Moving on to my second mistake: I was too eager to put the first mistake behind me. So a few songs later as there is a sexy blonde on stage, asking me if I want a couch dance, I at least learn from before and say no. Whew, bullet dodged. Then she comes by after her set and gives me a lap dance. It is extremely sensual and soft, just how I liek them. It is a truly hot lap dance (top 5-10% tier lap dance wise) and I'm sold. "Hey, can I get that couch dance?" I pay my $20 to the house, we go up, I settle in and give her a $40 tip. Finally, whew, let's go...
SBD (SexyBlondeDancer): Do you want to tip me more?
Me: (Oh for crying out loud what the hell is going on tonight!?)
No thanks.
SBD: Are you sure?
Me: Yeah.
The dance begins, but it's lost all of the sensualness her lap dance posessed. It's rather plain and straight-forward, and I'm not even finding myself getting wood.
Me: (remembering the last $40 tip incident) What are you rules?
SBD: Oh well every girl is different.
ME: (Fucking duh! That's why I asked what YOUR rules are).
SBD: You've probably heard this before, but the bigger the tip, the hotter the dance. Try it out and if you want more we can negotiate.
I've nothing to say, and she didn't even come close to answering my question. Maybe it's a personal failing, maybe it's just a pet peeve, but when conducting business I want a straight answer to a straight question. Having paid the $40 tip, I reach up and...nope.
SBD: You can't touch there.
Me: (Gee, maybe you should have mentioned that when I asked you what your rules are!)
SBD: That's why I asked if you wanted to tip me more.
Me: Oh.
The dance ends, I'm soft, and 0 for 2 for the evening. I'm drained and defeated at this point. Weak with frustration and buyer's remorse, wanting to get away from SBD, aka Second Mistake, I make my third mistake.
SBD: Do you want to show your appeciation.
Me: ...
I grab a bundle of singles (probably far too many, like 10-20) and stick them in her bra to shut her up. Then I leave without a word. By now I'm downright pissed at the way the night has gone, but before I went upstairs with SBD I saw my ATF take the stage, and she was still on stage so hope remained. I tip her well, and when she comes by to offer a couch dance and give me a great lap dance, I let her know that I'm actually interested in a VIP, but later, as I still want to get some more couch dances (from other girls, though I left that part out). She, being so easy going, lets me know that's okay, have fun, get some dances, and to seek her out if I still feel like having a VIP later. After the pressure from the last two, she's such a breath of fresh air I start to feel a little better about the evening. A VIP from her was my plan all along, and my chief reason for going to this club. To put it simply, her VIPs are double or triple the mileage of anything else I've ever encountered at any club. On top of that is that she is so friendly, remembers me even when it's been a year since I last saw her, very appreciative of my tips (which are naturally generous with her), and all around just makes the experience a pleasant and passionate one.
The other bright light of the evening is a dancer who has been filling in as bartender (juice club, so this means getting a can of soda or bottle of water from the fridge). She is friendly, pleasant, and appreciative. I tipped her well for her minor services (door fee, two drinks) and she mentioned that I should stick around for her stage show, as she'll be on soon. Well I wasn't going anywhere, and I do like Asian dancers, so hell yes!
Her stage show was sexy, attentive, and had a focus where she was completely zoned in on me. She got very close and definitely seemed eager to please. So I agree to a couch dance after she gets off stage (I'm apparently a slow learner). A $20 to the house, and I repeat as before. Settle in to the couch and give her a $40 tip. The dance itself was pretty good. She was soft and sensual after I told her to go easy. Initially it was a bit rough. She didn't like the implication that she ground too hard, and defended her dances as being very sensual. I wasn't trying to complain, just asking her to slow down. It was a brief and very out of place conversation given her behavior thus far. What follows is the conversation I had with SAD (Sensual Asian Dancer) that illustrates the oddity of the first two dancers tonight:
Me: Can I touch your breasts?
SAD: You tipped $40. Of course....you gave me $40.
Me: (well...but...yeah, but...'cuz before, oh whatever)
So yeah. Holy bolt-ons batman! It was like fondling a rock inside of a water balloon. At this point I'm getting worried that upon turning 29, I've lost my libido, as normally one can be quite happy from even a single couch dance at this place, and I'm about ready to celebrate a mere semi. Then she starts kissing me, closed mouth, on the lips. Oh God. Have I mentioned that I'm all about the soft touches and the sensual? That was enough to make me throb! I'm definitely enjoying myself at this point. Things have finally started to turn around. Until:
SAD: (mumbles something about going on or me liking it, I'm not sure).
Me: Yeah...
SAD: Do you want a bed dance then?
Me: Uh. no thanks.
SAD: Did you like the dance?
Me: Yes.
SAD: So you liked the dance, but you don't want another one. That doesn't make any sense.
Me: Well...
SAD: I like it, but I don't want more.
Me: ...
SAD: I made this (directing my attention to my erection). It's mine.
Me: ...
SAD: You want to keep going, but then you don't want another dance.
Me: No thank you.
The argument was actually longer, I just don't remember all the details. You get the idea. It was enough, combined with my previous two dances, to sour the third dance. She got much friendlier on our way out, and thanked me for the tip, etc. I can't figure out SAD...a strange mix of very friendly with brief periods of being so defensive she's offensive.
At this point, I'm done with couch dances and with any dancer who is not my ATF. I park down away from the stage, accept a lap dance, but don't ask for any couch dances. I hit the restroom and kill some time, all the while I keep watching for my ATF to come out of the dressing room. And then...she's up next! Yay!
I waste no time and mention wanting a VIP when she's off stage. $100 to the house, $100 to her, and it's 30 minutes in the bed dance room. At this point I'm already planning on tipping her extra afterwards, as I have never failed to have an awesome time with her. We had a very hot 20-minute or so experience of her on top, grinding against me (sans pants, just boxers) and using other things that felt surprisingly good through a pair of undies :P. She has gorgeous natural, soft breasts, and a great attitude. Soft moans, a sensual touch, and very close and personal. I like feeling her cheek against mine, and the feeling of a full body hug adds sensations from head to toe. Truly wonderful! I finish, she stays put, laying right there on top of me for the next 15 minutes or so as I stroke her back and we chat. She is complimetary of my gentle touch - this I actually believe, I get it all the time and it's true ;) As well as compliments of a less-believable, sexual nature.
We chat about other things (this is a first, I so rarely hear more then a few lines of conversation). I hear about her kids, her life story, politics, on and on. By now we must have been back there for 45 minutes or so, but the chatting and soft touches continue. We talk a little about me, and about the area. We apparently live very, very close to each other. She asks for my phone number. Umm..okay! (Note: first woman in my life to ask for my phone number, much less a cute, gorgeous one). We chat some more and she wants to know why she asked for my number and I didn't ask for hers. The people on here who know me will understand why, the rest...let's just say the answer is a combination of "shy" and me having been on here long enough to know what a major pet peeve that is for dancers, plus at this point I still don't believe she really likes me, although I am impressed that we're chatting long after my half hour is up (or so I think, I don't know how much time actually passed). So we jokingly have me ask for her number so she can say yes to me. More talk, and she says she wants to be friends.
Eventually the clothes start going back on and now with my wallet again, I tip her an extra $60. She tells me I don't have to do that, and that money and friends don't work out so well. I tell her I want her to have it for taking such good care of me. She jokes I only tipped her for her phone number. She tells me as a college student she'll take the money. I tell her I'm sure I want her to have it (geez, it's only $60). Clothes now on, she calls her cell phone with my cell phone so we have each other's numbers. At this point I don't know which way is up. All the signs are there of classic hussle. Plenty of other signs are there that it's not. Yet I don't think she knows my name, as I haven't been there in ages and probably haven't told her my name in years.
During our talk she mentioned how much she hates dancing, and that it's the worst thing for a girl to do, and how much she wants to get out. I'm glad for her for pursuing what makes her happy in school, but sad for me as I'm losing my ATF. Anyway, on the way out I ask about her schedule and that I want to see her again before she stops dancing, and she reminds me that we have each other's phone numbers. I'm slow to this whole "having a girl's number" thing. Plus I'm still high from the passionate experience of a wonderful VIP. I'm not thinking straight, and I almost ran over an old lady in one of those motorized carts shortly after leaving the parking lot. That so sounds like I'm making it up, but I'm really not.
I'm among the fallen PLs. I am a believer. She might actually want to be friends. Maybe. Do you think?
Despite my uncertainty, her companionship alone makes it my best strip club experience ever.
GenWar
06-21-2007, 05:45 AM
Les:
Great TR. Though I shiver at the things you did in that club. I am just to...fastidious...to ever enjoy that place. :|
As for believing, I am no one to advise you. It would be akin to asking Stevie Wonder to explain colors. But one trick I HAVE learned is text messaging. It has a couple of advantages...1) The sound of her voice is a major portion of the intoxicating effect. A lot of communication is not in the words as much as the sounds and removing the sound makes it harder to be charmed. 2) There is a record of her statements. One thing said at a time has a certain effecting but reviewing a conversation (or better yet, multiple conversations) in the aggregate can reveal patterns that aren't present in the single statement.
Other than that, just remember the "silver" rule. If it feels good and it isn't hurting anybody...how bad could it be?
-gen
P.S. Jay, can I get a ruling on that word, "fastidious"? I *THINK* I am using it right...
fas·tid·i·ous (fā-stĭd'ē-əs, fə-)
1. Possessing or displaying careful, meticulous attention to detail.
2. Difficult to please; exacting.
3. Excessively scrupulous or sensitive, especially in matters of taste or propriety.
I believe your use was perfect, Master Gen.
Richard_Head
06-21-2007, 07:23 AM
Nice TR lestat, glad you had a good time.
I'm guessing I wouldn't enjoy your club much though, I have issues with girls asking for tips, if they deserve them I have no trouble giving them but I hate being asked for them (especially upfront or when not deserved).
doc-catfish
06-21-2007, 03:56 PM
I'd planned on getting several couch dances, which are private, naked grinding, two-way touching (sans bikini areas) dances for $20 plus a $20 tip. With a $40 tip the two-way touching includes breasts (yes, my area has $60 dances - life sucks).
The following paraphrased but fairly accurate conversation ensues:
Shauna (I'll use her 'real' stage name, because she was so awful I don't feel bad at all calling her out on this): Give me more.
Me: What?
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: ...
Shauna: You have more, right?
Me: Yeah...
Shauna: Well give me more.
Me: Now?
Shauna: Guys don't tip me after the song.
(Oh God should I ever have taken that as a sign!)
Me: Why not?
Shauna: They just don't.
Me: ...
Shauna: Do you have more?
Me: Yes.
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: Uhhh...
Shauna: Guys have have more always give me more.
Me: Well...
Shauna: Give me more.
Me: No
Me: (remembering the last $40 tip incident) What are you rules?
SBD: Oh well every girl is different.
ME: (Fucking duh! That's why I asked what YOUR rules are).
SBD: You've probably heard this before, but the bigger the tip, the hotter the dance. Try it out and if you want more we can negotiate.
I've nothing to say, and she didn't even come close to answering my question. Maybe it's a personal failing, maybe it's just a pet peeve, but when conducting business I want a straight answer to a straight question. Having paid the $40 tip, I reach up and...nope.
SBD: You can't touch there.
Me: (Gee, maybe you should have mentioned that when I asked you what your rules are!)
SBD: That's why I asked if you wanted to tip me more.
Me: Oh.
Yikes. What kind of mob syndicate is running that clip joint? And why hasn't someone had the good knowledge to burn it down. Sorry. but you could have tipped that second gal a $100 and she still wouldn't let you touch her.
:O
Lestat, you need a trip to flyover country my friend. $30/song is the worst case scenario. None of this entitlement oriented "give me more" bullshit...even after the dance. Dancers like those two ROB's wouldn't last two minutes in a club around here. Hell, the money you'd save on dances alone would cover the gas or plane ticket.
:beret:
xdamage
06-21-2007, 04:06 PM
Yikes. What kind of mob syndicate is running that clip joint? :beret:
Yea, no kidding. Maybe "give me more" and "tip" is code in that club for how they negotiate the extras. Damn expensive lap dances.
GenWar
06-21-2007, 07:47 PM
All that, and it's DIRTY too.
-gen
SportsWriter2
06-22-2007, 07:26 PM
I'm among the fallen PLs. I am a believer. She might actually want to be friends. Maybe. Do you think?
The transition from dancing is difficult, even more so if you're a single mom. She may see you as a stable person and a possible friend with benefits during the transition. Treat her as an equal, independent person who has to solve her own problems (and not with your money). Just be casual about it.
mr_punk
06-22-2007, 07:48 PM
I'm guessing I wouldn't enjoy your club much though, I have issues with girls asking for tips, if they deserve them I have no trouble giving them but I hate being asked for them (especially upfront or when not deserved).i agree. although, i don't mind being asked afterwards (however, that doesn't mean i'm going to give it). in general, i think giving a tip upfront is a bad idea and being getting asked for a tip upfront is a bad sign.
Sorry. but you could have tipped that second gal a $100 and she still wouldn't let you touch her.yeah, this club sounds like it has a major ROB vibe about it. frankly, i wouldn't give this place a dime of my money. in fact, if i was forced to go to this club. i would rather watch the stage (no, i'm not tipping a dime) than buy a LD.
Yikes. What kind of mob syndicate is running that clip joint?judging by the way this club is putting the squeeze on PLs. i think it's the jesse james gang.
Yea, no kidding. Maybe "give me more" and "tip" is code in that club for how they negotiate the extras. Damn expensive lap dances.i wouldn't call it an extra. the option of touching a stripper's tits in this club seems to be used as a method to upsell customers and not in a good way.