In November, 2024, the Electric Blue in Tolland CT, was permanently closed. This was the result of a raid by state and federal agents roughly 18 months prior, and the subsequent investigation.
It’s been almost two years since its total closure. Before it is lost in obscurity, I wish to pay it homage as it forever changed me in my SC ways. While it wasn’t my first SC, it certainly was very influential.
Tolland, CT, population 15,000, is about a half-hour from Hartford; just up the road from the University of Connecticut. A small, rural New England town, with its historic buildings (founded 1715), and wooded hills, it hardly seemed like the place for a SC. The club itself - known as “The Blue” - was literally buried underneath other shops in a strip mall; like the lower level of a raised ranch with The Blue being the garage underneath.
It also shared a parking lot with a couple of other businesses, which meant that the family walking out of the Subway with their dinner could see you walking into The Blue. All you could do was say to yourself, “yep, folks, I’m going to see some titties.”
While The Blue changed its layout over the years, it always felt the same. Like you were in a basement - which you were, given it was under other stores. Cell phones could not get reception in these underground confines. When I first started going a few decades ago, I was amazed. On Friday and Saturday nights you had to fight for a chair at the stage. There was even waitress service at the stage so you didn’t have to get up and lose your valuable seat. I remember almost two dozen guys lining up their dollars to entice the dancer to come over. These days, I am a bar sitter at SCs; but back then, if I couldn’t sit at the stage, I was disappointed.
Typically, when busy, you would have two, sometimes three girls on stage. While it wasn’t all nude, some of the girls would pull aside their g-strings for a long, lingering look. An invitation, of sorts. There were so many girls to choose from that they became creative in their marketing.
I had a number of firsts at The Blue. I negotiated my first OTC experience, something I had no idea was possible and paved the way for my future depravity. It was here that I first experienced being grinded to an explosion. The Blue was also where I received my first out-of-the-pants HJ. I will never forget it. She had given me three dances already and for a smooth total of 100, she offered to finish the job. She was tall, native American looking, with bulbous bolt-ons, and she changed my world. I had no idea this was even possible. Not only was it possible, it was common and soon became an expectation. Ah, I was growing up.
There was the lap dance area, which was basically three walls lined with cubby-hole style booths, each with enough room for a chair. There was a jukebox in the lap dance area in which the girls would use to time the dances. “Hey, can you give me some ones for the jukebox?” was an all-too-common request. And if you were about get some alone time and they put on that dreaded Goo Goo Dolls song, it was the kiss of death - your dance would be short. You soon learned to specifically ask them to not put on that song when you gave them the dollar. “Is Freebird in there? Aqualung? Better yet, Green Grass and High Tides Forever?”
While these booths had an open front with walled sides, the girls still somehow managed to do a lot. They learned to pull it out, tug and mouth, and straddle and ride discreetly. There was an adjacent VIP area behind some curtains that offered a lot more privacy and a well-used sofa. I don’t recall the pricing in the VIP but there was a house fee and a tip-the-bouncer-to-not-check-on-you fee, so it wasn’t cheap. But if all you wanted to do was get off, the regular lap dance area worked just fine for anything you wanted and at a fraction of the cost. You just had to put up with the Goo Goo Dolls while you made your goo (sorry, that was a terrible play on words).
Speaking of pricing; man, it used to be cheap back in the late 90s and early 2000s. I recall walking in with $100, having two beers, stage tipping and getting a HJ and I’d still walk out with cash in my pocket.
I also learned about supply and demand here. Whenever there was an economic crisis, (e.g, dot-com market crash of ~2000), guys would be strapped and spending in the SC went down. As demand went down, so did the girl’s prices. One clever and attractive Puerto Rican girl offered me a test drive in hopes I would continue to engage her for future visits. The cost? $20. For FS. Of course, I accepted.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, Rio came to Connecticut. The Brazilians arrived in force.
Massachusetts and Connecticut have some of the largest Brazilian communities in the USA. And some of these wonderful, beautiful, sexy and undocumented women made their tax-free living through stripping.
And extras. Hell, I began to learn Portuguese so I could negotiate better. And just like the current Cuban invasion of today, the Brazilians of New England were also capitalists; they loved money, and knew how to set their pricing to maximize their sales. Being hot as hell was also a plus.
It was a Brazilian who gave me another first - a stripper asked me out. She invited me the following weekend to her apartment. At that time, I wasn’t sure what I was getting into - we didn’t discuss money - but was this an OTC experience? I remember driving to her place thinking this was a bad idea.
Well, we had lunch at an Olive Garden before going to her apartment. As her roommate watched TV in an adjoining room, we went to her bedroom. And we did everything. Yes, including the back door (her request - I love Brazilian women). No money ever exchanged hands. You know that old cliche of the delusional guy leaving the club and telling his friends, “she really liked me!” Well, she really liked me. So for a few months anyway, I had a free pass both ITC and OTC. One of our encounters became the first time I ever got totally 100% naked in a club. They had a small private office behind the stage that some girls had the privilege to use. With total privacy and a locked door, all clothes were off. Looking back, I can only shake my head and laugh.
Alas, she moved away and that was that. But the memory lingers fondly.
Oh, The Blue. My poor, deceased Electric Blue. I’ll never forget the drop-dead gorgeous deaf girl who danced by feeling the sound vibrations. And the guy in the wheelchair who dressed like a wizard. The absolutely disgusting bathrooms where flushing was apparently optional. OK, so not all memories are good ones. The shit house was a shit house.
I moved away during its most prosperous time. When I would come back to visit, I would stop in. Of course, it felt different. There were 1-2 girls who held on there for over a decade, but mostly new blood trolled the floor. The girls got bigger as well. Honestly, I used to walk in there and it would be filled with 7s, 8s, and even 9s. Then it dropped a few points across the board. A 7 was now a rare gem.
The stage tipping also seemed to have dwindled during the 2010s. I could now find a seat easily. The club seemed to have transitioned from a strip club with stage dancers to one heavy with extras. Which, if you research what happened to the club, probably accelerated its closure.
As expected, most of the familiarity was now gone. Even the bathrooms were cleaner. You can’t go home again.
But it was still The Blue. It was still a great option for a SC in the declining New England SC landscape. But all good things must come to an end…
I won’t rehash the violations here, but you can imagine. I often wondered when this tiny little town would finally try to shut it down. There were always rumors of politicians and law enforcement being bought off (unvalidated), so maybe someone’s envelope was a little too light. Or someone’s daughter started to work there. Or the Goo Goo Dolls began leeching out of the building into the wildlife. All speculations.
But it crashed and burned. The initial raid drove away many of the girls, and it began its death spiral before the law finally came down heavy. The Blue was history.
A new SC, The Den, has been trying to open in its place. I believe it did for a short time before it had its temporary liquor license not renewed. Ah, New England. Leading the way to the death of the strip club.
The Electric Blue. It used to even have its own billboard on route 84 west, somewhere between the Massachusetts state line and the club. The locals didn't like it, and they had it taken down long before the club was shuttered. But I used to smile every time I drove by the picture of the two girls in bikinis, and I swear they smiled right back at me. Good-bye, Blue, and thank you.
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