Counterfeit money and strip clubs
Priapus
I'm not planning to try to pass counterfeit bills at a strip club on purpose. I'm just (very slightly) afraid that I might get a counterfeit bill from work. (We've been given one counterfeit C-note in the ten years I've been there.) Not only do I not want to be accused of trying to stiff the club or a dancer, there's also the matter of contesting the determination that one (or more!) of my bills is counterfeit. That's a potential issue at any business where I spend big bills but it's more worrisome at a strip club because if I notify the appropriate authorities, they'd know I was patronizing a strip club. (Does anyone know what the procedure is for verifying the authenticity of a bill that a business claims is counterfeit?)
(Apologies if this topic has been discussed before, but there doesn't seem to be any way to search the discussion board.)
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The last time I used a c-note at a strip club they had a special marker/pen they used to find out if it was real.
I've always figured that I should counterfeit my $1-bills for strip club use. You're always just cramming them in strippers' g-strings and doing other crumply stuff with them. You could use a color photocopier, make $100 of them, then bring $30 each time you go to a club. First thing you do, ask the bartender to change $40 into $1s when you get there because you want to tip. Then, use your fake $1s to tip. Have usual fun as you would, and, when you leave, you're up $30 real dollars. Upgrade to $20s if you dare ... just make sure you use their ATM immediately before trying to spend your fakes, so that the cameras make it look like you got the bad money from them rather than from your color photocopier. If they tell you that the $20s are counterfeit, yell scream and holler that you got the goddam things from their fucking machine and who the hell are they to not let you spend their own goddamn money!!?? You won't get the money back, but at least it will be a plausible cover.
I once was shown an obviously faked $100 by a street hooker in Toronto. She was in my car, and we were driving away for our rendezvous, chatting, friendly-like. (In Toronto, there's a lot less of the social stigma and low-class-to-high-class differentiation, in street prostitution scenes. Or, at least, there was, when I lived there 15 years ago.) So, she says, "Fuck, look at this piece of shit," and shows me an obvious counterfeit $100 that she had been given by her previous John. I'm like, "Wow, you accepted that piece of shit?" A Canadian $100 is mostly browns and dark reds, but this was a black-and-white photocopy. And the front face was upside-down relative to the back face. (Meaning, the obverse and reverse were not properly oriented vertically, relative to one another.) Amazingly bad. I wondered, if she could afford to lose $100 by being so casual about what she inspected before accepting, maybe I didn't need to be paying her as much as I did.
Can't remember if I got decent service, or even, where we went. There was this hotel ...
I would never try it because I value my body to much to have some guy named Bruno come pick me out of a lap dance, throw me down the stairs, and leave bloodied and battered. (If you haven't seen the bouncers at Tootsie's you know what I am talking about).
You are right, they aren't mean guys, but they define the stereotype of the big, orge like bouncer. Most of them are pretty friendly guys who asked me if I needed anything each time I went (non-threatening manner). They are just so big, it would take ten of me to take down some of them.
Of course, that tactic might prevent you from being beaten up in such a way that you could sue, whereas other people might survive the beating but because of embarrassment still couldn't sue. But that doesn't mean they wouldn't beat you up in such a way that you couldn't sue because you were dead.