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Thread: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

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    Member kokoro's Avatar
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    Sad The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    I originally posted this in my journal, and I thought I would share with you ladies. What's the saddest, most depressing experience you've ever had at a strip club? Here's mine.

    There's a strip club, notorious in my town, for being the worst of the worst. They say it's where strippers go to die. It's the end-of-the-road for anyone who works here; a truly horrible place. Its reputation isn't aided by the fact it's also in the sleazier area of the town, an area once (still?) well-known for its rampant prostitution and other unsavory activities.

    I thought people were joking when they said it was two double-wides smashed together. A neighboring decrepit trailer park undoubtedly attracts the majority of the club's clientèle, and after last night's adventure, I'm convinced that the heart of the building was indeed constructed by the owner's dilapidated mobile palace.

    There were a ton of cars in the parking lot, but for what business they were patronizing, I didn't know. The painted siding of the club looked fresh, decorated with specials and banners, but once turning that corner down the soiled, dingy ramp into what I'll affectionately refer to as "Stripper's Graveyard," all hope was lost. This was truly a terrible place.

    There were some men clustered in the foyer, bored, and any number of darts clutched in their hands. I couldn't tell a bouncer from a barfly. Someone called out for IDs, and a man with a baseball cap seemed to be the identified fellow in charge. We followed him to a side table that had a lamp for reading cards, right in front of a wide entrance to the bar and stage. It would be noted upon leaving, that this area was widely unattended to, and any young kid could easily run in (but would surely want to run out soon thereafter).

    One of my friends was psyched, because as the stunning alcoholic that he is, he knew Stripper's Graveyard had the cheapest, crappiest beer on tap. "Eight dollars a pitcher!" he would exclaim. But his hopes were dashed like a drunken stripper crashing head first into the meat rack, when the friendly bartender said that PBR was now $14. Prices had certainly gone up, but surely not the quality of anything in the whole vicinity. We found ourselves a sticky table within viewing range of the stage, and a plastic pitcher with three mismatched cups was delivered.

    It wasn't long before I realized one of the most unsettling aspects. We were holding a conversation - easily. There were no exceedingly loud speakers to compete with, nor an enthusiastic DJ narrating the whole experience. It was revealed, after a song or two, that the master control for the music was backstage that was run by whichever girl was dancing on-stage. Before her song ended, she would jump up, in various states of undress, and disappear through a narrow doorway. Then, either the music would stop, or we were treated to five-second samples of old rock and booty-poppin' rap, until she scrolled through whatever nightmarish playlist was preloaded on some creaky, old computer.

    It was like a slow-moving, ass-gyrating, jiggly, horrific car wreck that was glacially unfolding on the sad excuse of a dance stage. In the studded, metal, semi-reflective wall, one couldn't exactly see their miserable reflection, but instead, any images or light was contorted indecipherable by the decades-old pimples of the silver paneling - an adequate metaphor for the experience.

    My eyes carefully watched the few women that were strolling, strutting, and lounging about the place. The air was sickly - a strange mixture of hopelessness and cigarettes, even though smoking indoors was banned last year. This scent undeniably emanated from all of them - yes, the 250-pound, post-pregnancy 35-year-old who was robotically kneading her sagging breasts to an unresponsive crowd, to the skeletal, likely-a-former-or-recovering crack addict whose smoky, croaky voice betrayed her and revealed her age to be much closer to sixty, than thirty. Even the moderately attractive young girl, whose ass would be discreetly grazed by the man she was playing pool with and her angry looks that did nothing; there, there was the utter surrender and sadness, as well.

    I wasn't sure if it's the medicine I've been on to combat a sinus infection, or the taste of that terrible beer in my mouth, but I felt a creeping sickness rise up in my throat. I realized the more that I people-watched, the sadder and frustrated I felt.

    There was the ghetto-trash guy with the obscenely ugly and fake grill, who looked not a day past 20, and was the best dressed man in the joint, aside from the greasy, creepy old man sitting in the darkness, wearing an old ascot and grasping a handled mug. A balding, loud man wearing a Disneyland jersey had glared at my boyfriend and my roommate when they went up to the meat rack, and hissed to the girl, "Hurry back." And there were various other members of society, from the unassuming, mousy men to the round-bellied, obnoxious goat who was glorious in his manliness as he commanded the attention of two uninterested strippers. But all shared a similar, lackluster, dull glint in their eyes, a feeling that was evident in all the girls who worked there.

    I tried to entertain myself by watching the dancers, unable to ignore the guys I had come with. They were rating their experience, remembering one glory day of 75% - some magical, unrepeatable evening where near 3 out of every 4 strippers at this club had met the standards of decent attraction and sexual appeal. Then, it was collectively realized that this was Saturday, a day that should have the A-team out, a day where clubs are packed, and instead the club's proud display were the prima donnas that could have easily been selected from their kin who walk the streets outside. There was not a doubt in my mind: those cushioned chairs that dutifully lined the dark walls of the club were the chairs where the extras came, because there would be no feasible way these women could ever make a living with the few George Washingtons that were thrown their way.

    The more we saw, the more I wanted to get out of there. I tried my best to enjoy the gin and tonic, with the microscopic lime wedge that was skewered on a red plastic stick and floating limply in my tumbler. But either the water, or the gin was bad, or the environment was so sickening, I couldn't bear to drink anymore. I felt unclean, tainted, and had the urge to run, as if this club was contagious.

    A stripper in a fishnet body suit and heels walked by, her dark nipples restricted by the black thread; I realized she was collecting abandoned drinks. So not only did they dance on a pole that was unsecured and wobbly, on a stage where they set their own music, in a club where there's probably the highest per capita handjob exports, they even had to take orders and bus tables. They were truly glorified bar maids, who happened to take off their clothes and roll around on the filthy stage wearing sneakers and ruffled granny panties.

    The feeling was urgent, and three of us prodded the fourth to hurry up and finish his beer so we could get out. Our roommate had never been to a strip club before, and this was truly the worst introduction. We hurried to the car, slipping out through an empty foyer and got into the car. We drove to the biggest, most famous strip club in the city, which was absolutely packed.

    We found a table near the stage, as there were easily a hundred people in the club. The music was great, the drinks were strong and palatable, and the girls came in many shapes and sizes - all were beautiful and talented. A bachelorette party was there that night, and the lucky bride-to-be was stripped down, laid on a velvety block, and proceeded to be rubbed, kissed, touched and grinded against by four gorgeous women.

    As I watched a variety of women perform splits, bends, and even one doing an incredible breakdance in the nude, my mind drifted to the sadness of Stripper's Graveyard. None of those women would ever experience men crowding up at the meat rack, because all of the seats were taken. None of them would have adoring patrons ball up dollar bills and rocket them across the room at the stage. None would roll around in a shower of money, their bodies glistening in the lights and getting genuine applause at the end of a set.

    No, that was the end of the road. Perhaps some of them had touched that once before, but if any of them had experienced glory days, they would have best stopped stripping before now. Before they were beyond their prime, before they would have been viewed as "sad and pathetic" instead of "beautiful and feminine" by the men who frequent this place, before they would have to relegate themselves to the life in the double-wide trailer strip club.

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    God/dess Gia2608's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    The Other Side in Fitchburg Massachusetts
    XoXo Gia
    Danielle Fishell (the Dish): "If the Super-Star thing doesn't work out, Gia makes a great stripper name"

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    There have been a few sad experiences, but one that comes to mind has to do with the dancers. Unlike another dive bar I worked in, most of these women looked decent. That is until you got up close and saw they were older. One woman was at least 60 and quite a few others were at least 45. What makes it sad were the stories they told. This particular club was in an area that used to be notorious for prostitution in strip clubs, though it was a nice looking club and wasn't dirty (as far as I know). They talked about being forced to turn tricks back when the mafia owned many of these clubs. They talked about how much they hated men. They were different than the majority of the dancers I've worked with. It almost felt like they were trapped and had no other options. You could see anger in their eyes. Even though the clubs they were talking about had long since been closed and demolished it still bothered them. I ended up quitting a few weeks later because I didn't feel comfortable there. It's one thing to be dancing at that age because you want to, another because you have to (which is what I believe their story was).

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    Senior Member moxilicious's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    i can't say because i don't want to be mean
    but it has a jukebox for a dj and everyone is kinda big but really nice tho
    but today i just got hired at this one place, and only made thirty dollars it's very hispanic and touchy touchy

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    Member Lucky13's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Kokoro, your story brought a tear to my eye. You're an excellent writer.

    I have never been to club that saddened me however, I have met dancers that have.

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    God/dess papillonluvr's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Kokoro, that story is really sad.
    We have a club in town that no one really reputable works at; I've personally never been inside, just have heard about it (hearsay). Drive by it frequently-it's in an area known for prostitution. That club is where we tell ppl to go when they want extras or drugs.
    "You can close your eyes to reality but not to memories -Stainslaw J. Lec

    Confuscius say: "Man who pull bra stap get bust in face"


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    Member kokoro's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    I felt sad writing that. Heck, I felt sad at that club. I really wish I could go take pics of the joint, so you girls could really see how awful it is. I just.. cannot fathom how anyone can make a living there, much less WANT to make a living there.

    I guess what's really depressing is what kind of lives these poor women are leading. What happened to them that they had to end up there? It's just so sad.

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    Featured Member CherryBomb954's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    ^ That was good.....it almost sounded like an excerpt from a novel or something!!

    There is one place in my town....Raider's Reef.....which I think is the most depressing strip club I've been too. Then again, I haven't been to that many. Alot of girls seem to like the place and like working there, but I just don't get it. Sometimes I wonder if it is a front. I have never heard any guy say a good thing about the place, though.

    Depressing, because it's the sister club of another club named "Curves", and is the place where Curves girls are sent when they get demoted or fired. It's been called "Curves' trash can" and also I have heard it been called "Stripper graveyard" So basically you have a bunch of girls who the owners of Curves have sent over cause they felt they were not up to par for their "better club"......(too fat, too skinny, cracked out, too many tattoos, whatever.)
    I have seen more than one girl there with a full mouth of rotten teeth (meth rot.....so obvious), severly overweight girls (like not cute curvy but OMG WTF) girls falling asleep standing up with a cigarette in their hand (heroin??) Just bad, bad, bad.
    The building is shaped like a boat, because it used to be a seafood restaurant way back in the day. There are shotgun shell holes in the ceiling of one DR cause the owner of the restaurant killed himself inside there. It's dirty, always smells like grease and fried food cause the kitchen is kind of out in the open, the sound system sucks.....I could go on and on.

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    Veteran Member heidimonster7's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    I don't have a club in mind, but I just wanted to say thanks for the story and you are an amazing writer. Your descriptions really "took me there". I hope you are doing something with your talent

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    God/dess Paris's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Wow! That was an awesome read. You have a way of drawing a person in with your desriptions, and I just had to read this from start to finish, and I read it slowly, as if it was being spoken to me in a slow, depressed story-teller's voice.

    Thank you so much for posting this here.


    Promote yourself and earn more money! This is a business that is owned by strippers for strippers. Let's make that money!


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    Member kokoro's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Awww, thanks so much Paris, and everyone! I'm really glad that you were able to enjoy it. I guess when I get really into something, or emotionally attached to an experience I've had, it's easier for me to share it.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Well written, 2 stilettos up!!
    I swear that sounds like the Foxy Lady in NC. I never went there, but heard stories about it.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Quote Originally Posted by Paris View Post
    Wow! That was an awesome read. You have a way of drawing a person in with your desriptions, and I just had to read this from start to finish, and I read it slowly, as if it was being spoken to me in a slow, depressed story-teller's voice.

    Thank you so much for posting this here.
    I Agree.
    xoxo

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    Senior Member thisunrest's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Quote Originally Posted by holly07 View Post
    Well written, 2 stilettos up!!
    I swear that sounds like the Foxy Lady in NC. I never went there, but heard stories about it.

    I've been to a Foxy Lady out there.It wasn't worth the trip.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Plant City, Florida. Showgirls, or as the girls themselves refer to it, Show-Hoes. Bikini club, so you're fortunate not to see anyone's goodies, but the girls there are damn hideous. The table dances are $5, they to dwarf tossing with the DJ Dave the Dwarf once a week, there's jello and mud wrestling in a kiddie pool on the stage. Hardly any of the girls wear proper stripper heels. The girls would fuck the manager/owner in the back, he'd pay for it too. Those were the only girls who made any money. Meth was rampant there and the girls are had skin with sores all over it.

    I lasted a week. Then I moved away.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Quote Originally Posted by Gia2608 View Post
    The Other Side in Fitchburg Massachusetts

    I grew up in Fitchburg!!! It really and truly is the saddest place on earth!!!

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    Veteran Member Sinn's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    250-pound, post-pregnancy 35-year-old who was robotically kneading her sagging breasts to an unresponsive crowd, to the skeletal, likely-a-former-or-recovering crack addict whose smoky, croaky voice betrayed her and revealed her age to be much closer to sixty, than thirty. Even the moderately attractive young girl, whose ass would be discreetly grazed by the man she was playing pool with and her angry looks that did nothing; there, there was the utter surrender and sadness, as well.
    GAAHH!
    This post was...incredible.. i thanked the author. this is the truth of the strip club industry in a very revealing light. What an amazing read, thank you for writing this. I am absolutely delighted.


    /


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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    That story was amazing!

    Sad strip clubs are something you can keep in mind for motivation to someday GRACIOUSLY leave the industry, or go out while on top of your game. 'Cuz if ya don't, you might be put out to pasture at a an awful place.

    I have worked at a few dives that have now are VERY SAD STRIP CLUBS. Fortunately, I'm spending my "pre-retirement" years at the best club in my state.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Well, for what it's worth, I have a little update about Stripper's Graveyard. Yesterday, the owner was charged with distributing cocaine, and if he's going to get convicted, the feds are going to try to seize the club. There's not a lot of details yet, but the club is remaining open for the time being. It'll be interesting to see how this pans out. I wonder what will happen to all the girls..
    callmecass.livejournal.com

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    Veteran Member bluelight's Avatar
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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    omg that was a trip. I have been to a club like that, totally remember that "run towards life" feeling!

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    Quote Originally Posted by holly07 View Post
    Well written, 2 stilettos up!!
    I swear that sounds like the Foxy Lady in NC. I never went there, but heard stories about it.
    I worked there a couple months. It wasn't that bad in my opinion, just kind of a dive and there was like no money in that club. The girls were nice tho.

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    The club I worked at over the summer. There was a stand up fan next to the stage.

    The a/c didn't work for shit. The last time I worked there was when it was 110 degrees outside.




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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    kokoro you should write a short story, that was pretty awesome writing!

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    in portland, I would have to go with Casa Diablo. *shudder*
    Quote Originally Posted by Vamp View Post
    As Katherine Hepburn put it so eloquently " Nature is what we were put here to rise above"

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    Default Re: The saddest strip club you've ever been to..

    I can't usually complain about strip clubs since I can always find something good in one but about a year ago I went to one in Portland called Jd's Bar. My bouncer friend and I walked in and sat down at the bar. There was an old lady yelling at some ghetto kids who did not look old enough to be there. She said she was going to call the cops. It calmed down and she did not. We saw one pregnant dancer working. There may have been one more but she seemed to be getting off shift. This was around 1am on a Sunday. We got our drinks and decided to leave after we drank them. The old bartender lady went to the back for a minute and all of a sudden the ghetto kids rushed behind the bar and grabbed bottles of alcohol and ran out. My bouncer friend thought it would be a good idea to run after them and save the day. I forced him to stay put since there was a large group of them and only him. Bartender lady came back and we told her what happened. She looked at the missing bottles of alcohol and said that they got her top shelf stuff. She seemed somewhat calm but did not call the police and this seemed like it must have happened here alot. We were half way through our drinks and a really old "streetperson type" came over to sell my bouncer friend an ipod for $5. He bought it. Then we left. I was glad when we left. I felt my life was in danger. Never go to Jd's bar and grill In Northeast Portland.

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