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jonnboy

A book signing? In a strip club? Read on.

I first read about the Mitchell Brothers O’Farrell Theater in a copy of Playboy magazine around 1980. Figured I had to go next time I was in San Francisco. Don’t think I’d had a particularly sheltered upbringing, but it blew my mind. Is this where they invented the lapdance? I’d just taken my seat in the main hall – seats on three sides of a thrust stage – watching naked dancers on the stage when, in the gloomy half-light across the room, spotted a girl -- a naked girl -- grinding the heck out of a guy sitting in a theatre seat just like mine. Was I seeing things, or was it really happening? Yes, it sure was happening.

And sure enough, soon there was a girl beside me inviting me to experience the same. I took to it like the proverbial duck to water. And the amazing thing was, all each girl asked, every minute or so, was to be handed a fresh dollar bill. One dollar! For a minute’s lapdance! Looking back, it seems like an oddly innocent time.
The other rooms in the building hosted live shows – real eye-boggling performances, and again it was dollar bills that kept the show on the road. There was no hard sell attached. When each show was over, you’d just wander back to the main room and hope one of the girls you’d just watched would show up wandering your way in the half-light.

I went to the O’Farrell several times in the 1980s and loved every minute. It’s where I came across the book signing -- Marilyn Chambers, no less, who had made her name in this very building in front of the movie cameras. I glimpsed her sitting at a table in a side room in splendid isolation, signing copies of her autobiography from a pile of books on the table to anyone who ventured in and bought. I didn’t. No disrespect to Ms. Chambers, but her book was not something I wanted in my luggage when I got home.

After a 10 or 12-year break, I went back to the O’Farrell around 2000 and everything had changed. Made a fool of myself asking the guy at the front desk to break down some 20s into the good old dollar bills – he looked at me as though I was nuts. There were still lapdances in the main room, but no longer for mere bucks, and no sooner had they started that you got the upsell to join the girl in the private booths that now proliferated all round the building. And the sexy live shows had ended too. Now all you got was a flash and a wiggle and, hey! How about a great time in a private booth? Seems you could get most any mileage you might want, but at a heck of a price. Am I naïve to draw a distinction between dancers and hookers? It seemed the hookers had taken over the dance hall.

I visited Mons Venus in Tampa for the first time about 10 years ago, and it reminded me somehow of those early “innocent” days at the O’Farrell. I’m no exhibitionist but I didn’t mind at all the open-house style of the place (though if I’d eaten a bad burger, I’d sure have minded the open-house style of the men’s room!). In 3 or 4 visits there, I’ve encountered some truly gorgeous young women and enjoyed every minute of their company. Then came Covid, and Mons Venus changed too. A last visit in 2022 disappointed me. It’s by no means the gouging “rob” that the O’Farrell turned into, but the installation of private booths has altered the atmosphere. The deal used to be just between you and the girl, and you could go on extending the dance for as long as you could afford. Now there’s a middleman, or middlewoman, to negotiate with, and pay, and time limits on the use of the booth, and it just takes the edge off of the experience. Love it or hate it, MV had a unique atmosphere and style, just as O’Farrell once had. Now it’s just like any other strip club. Or maybe I’m just getting old.

Adjudicators

clubdude

Keep kicking myself for not going to O'Farrell back in 83.

DOLLAR_BILL

minnow

Incoherent

Rod8432

Jascoi

Harderlap

Local Hick

Sgrayeff