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The Sinclair Diaries: Part 5

sinclair

Strip Club Nation

To break up the monotony of work and see some new scenery, I took a road trip out to St. Louis for the weekend. I checked into an upscale hotel that I was able to get a very favorable rate due to connections. I washed up and suited up for some club time. I had forgotten my secret stripper bait at the house, but, hey, the show must go on. The ESL scene can be divided into four subgroups: Brooklyn (Roxy's, PT's, Pink Slip, Bottoms Up), Centreville (PT's, Centerfold Cabaret), Sauget (PT's Sports, Penthouse), and Washington Park (Blondies, C-Mowes Key Club, Cheeks, Dollies, Wise Guys, Hollywood Show Club, Larry Flynt's Hustler Club, and Miss Kitty's). The East St. Louis area is very poor, very dangerous, and tolerant of adult businesses because the sales tax and licensing fees provide a significant percentage of these rundown towns' revenue. I headed over to Washington Park for the first night.

Right at the interchange of Kingshighway and I-64 is Larry Flynt's Hustler Club and Miss Kitty's. I decided to bypass both of these clubs based on tidbits from the reviews. A few reviewers for the Hustler Club said that the girls would take your hands and graze them on their ribcages, as if that was risqué, but did not allow touching in other places. The rumors that this club is ROB-laden and the fact that I hate the Déjà Vu/Hustler chain kept me away. Miss Kitty's, while apparently having a dancer named Sinclair, seemed hit or miss, with a few reviewers mentioning getting robbed and upsold by dancers. A carjacking took place in Miss Kitty's parking lot a few nights prior. I continued down the road to the Hollywood Show Club, the safe bet, which is currently rated #8 on the Top 100. The Hollywood by far had the safest parking lot—it was fenced in, had private security guards, and was lit up brighter than Fresnel lenses. The Hollywood reminds me of Rorke's Drift in the movie Zulu. Inside the Hollywood's compound is safe, but dangerous welfare-dependant savages look to breach the walls to break into your car. I was warned by several of the entertainers to avoid stopping at the gas stations at the intersection of Bunkum and Kingshighway. Apparently, patrons have gotten robbed, assaulted, and carjacked there.

I watched the stage show for a bit, where tit and ass groping is encouraged, and then decided to get some dances from Spinner 1, a 7, to see what level of contact is given here. The level of contact was about the same as at the stage. I would later find out that I had just picked a very restrictive dancer that thought she should be showered with money to do nothing because she has a deadbeat boyfriend at home that can't make any money. The low enthusiasm and “give me your money” attitude turned me off and I moved on to Spinner 2 when Spinner 1 left to take care of a regular. Spinner 2 was a 9 and gave more contact, enthusiasm, and intimacy then Spinner 1. When Spinner 1 saw me dropping heavy cheddar on Spinner 2, she started to get catty and thought she owned my wallet. Fuck off, bitch! I am going to associate with the girls that make me feel like a man, not girls that make me feel like an ATM. I had wanted to try out some more dancers to prospect how mileage varied from girl to girl, but the club started to get crowded and my prospects became occupied. I was tired and hungry by this point and headed out after a couple hours clubbing. I hit a Denny's on the way back to the hotel. I ordered three plates of food, one for each meal I skipped that day. The food was greasy and delicious.