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CTQWERTY

<p>
I walk into a suburban Toronto club (no cover, no valet), get a beer (cheaper than Detroit) and walk over towards the stage. I settle in at a table about three rows back and begin to take it all in. The performer on stage is a thin, tall blonde of about 30 and she&#39;s completely nude. I notice there&#39;s two levels to the club and a couple of TVs, one showing porn and the other some sporting event. I see a few other guys scattered about, that the furniture is barely serviceable and pretty uncomfortable. Evidently I should&#39;ve been paying attention as the song had ended.<br />
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All of the sudden the stage performer has arrived at my table almost instantaneously. She stands directly in front of me and recognizes me as new. She confirms by asking. She then states she is nude and is holding a towel up in front of her covering the goods. She wants me to take her up for a lapper now because she is nude. I state I just got in and have barely started my beer. Dancer says she&#39;s not only nude but also horny. I give her a polite smile and say I want to sit for a bit. Dancer reiterates she&#39;s warmed up, nude, and horny. I again say I&#39;d like to sit for awhile. Dancer then says &quot;How about if the first dance is free?&quot; She found my weakness.<br />
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Off we go to the second floor. We get a seat behind a fake palm plant and my horny, nude, hostess begins a pretty aggressive lapper. Transitions pretty far into extraville by the end of the first song. Compromised, I allow things to go further on the next song. I then get an act befitting a member of the dirty talk hall of fame. &quot;Who&#39;s the boss? Are you the boss or am I the boss?&quot; Dancer then decides she wants to *move tables*. Grunts and groans as *moving tables* is vigorous work. Dancer then states she wants to *move chairs*. More vigor employed. Then she declares &quot;But if I&#39;m *moving chairs*, I can&#39;t *move tables*, and I want to *move tables*!!!&quot; So she quickly transitions from *moving chairs* to *moving tables*. More moaning and groaning as she labors intensively. Then out of nowhere comes a pause to the action and another declaration: &quot;But if I&#39;m *moving tables* then I can&#39;t *move chairs*, and I WANT TO *MOVE CHAIRS*!!!&quot; Dancer then *moves chairs* at a feverish pace. I can barely keep up. Finally, after 4 songs of *moving furniture*, the task is completed. Wow! Then I get the bill for *moving furniture*: &quot;That will be $4-$500&quot;. WTF?!?<br />
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I protest and state that had I been informed of the cost of *moving furniture* early on, I never would&#39;ve agreed. Dancer replies $4-$500 is the going rate for *moving furniture*. I reiterate I never would&#39;ve agreed to that price and offered $200 as a fair price. Dancer says that tasks of *moving tables* and *moving chairs* are separate jobs and each has it&#39;s own charge. The sum is what I owe and thereby the bill is $4-$500. I then ask who we should see to resolve the billing question. That changes the dancer&#39;s stance and she is willing to accept the $200 I offered. Then she wants a tip. I supply an additional $20 and she departs somewhat happy. And that was my first 40 minutes or so in a suburban Toronto strip club!<br />
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I went back down to the main floor and settled in to consume my ever-warming beer. Many other dancers stopped by to solicit lappers and a fair amount seemed to be willing to &#39;move additional furniture&#39; should I be interested. I often told them I had just been upstairs and had all of my &#39;furniture moved&#39; and then some. It wasn&#39;t what they wanted to hear and perhaps explains why my nude, horny, &quot;first song is free&quot; hard sell gal pressed so quick and fast (she wanted to get the moving business before it went to others). My guess is newbies will experience much the same canned hunt hustle. So, you&#39;ve been warned!</p>