First Time in Thirty Years
Back in the '80s, that corner of Hennepin and 5th Street wasn't among the friendliest. I remember one time, just walking along, minding own business, and a guy in front of Augie's shouted at me, "Hey! You like girls!" I shrugged and kept on walking, but he grabbed me by the arm and shouted at me again, the exact same words. I pulled myself free and hurried across the street. Yeah, not exactly a friendly invitation, even in broad daylight.
A few years later, the street barker was gone and I decided to venture in there. The place was pretty much just in black light, and I couldn't see a damn thing unless someone wore white or smiled. I had one Coke and luckily I was able to find my way out without inadvertently groping someone.
Cut to today. There's a booth at the front door where a person collects a $5 cover. You then place all of your metal objects, from coins to cell phones, into a small basket, walk through a turnstile (and presumably a metal detector), and then collect your items before entering the club proper, which is basically a very large room, painted black, with a small cabaret-style stage to the left, a bar to the right, I'm guessing bathrooms to the far end, and right next to the entrance, the doorman/bouncer/security. If you go around the corner from him, you'll find a small nook housing about a half dozen makeshift booths in which dancers give lap dances. Along the wall with the bar were a few tall tables and tall bar stools. Scattered throughout the club were smaller tables with chairs.
You can actually see in the bar now, but since the lighting is all rave lighting -- blues and reds and not much else -- it's tough to guess most actual coloring. The music -- rap, hip-hop, maybe something else along those lines -- was deafening loud. I could hear it out on the street, maybe ten feet or so from the building, but I didn't realize just how well insulated those walls were until I was inside.
It took a little bit to get the attention of one of the bartenders. (She had to go talk to the other bartender at the other end of the bar about something.) After a few minutes standing at the bar, she finally got around to getting me a Coke -- three bucks, plus another for a tip. The first tall table I tried to sit at was covered in a drink, so much so, the chair was also wet, so I moved on. So a couple vacated their table, and I laid claim to it.
Of the patrons, I was one of maybe three white guys. The other twenty or so people were black and predominantly guys. The dancers were predominantly black as well, though because of the lighting, I really couldn't give a reasonable guess on the ethnicity of the other dancers. They could've been white, lighter-skinned Latinos, or even fair-skinned blacks for all I know.
Two dancers were on stage at all times, strutting around, walking bored, or doing some rudimentary pole tricks. (There were two poles on stage.) For the most part, I really wasn't impressed with the appearance of the majority of them, probably in the 4-5.5 range. There was a decent variety of body types and tight clothing but it felt like there was also a lot of attitude.
But there was one woman who caught my eye, about a 7.5 to me. A very pretty woman with long legs, dark, curly hair, and dark eyes, with a medium build and nicely rounded curves. In her stripper heels, she probably stood a little over six feet tall. The only downside I could see were some tattoos on her shoulders and arms, not a lot but enough to give me second thoughts. I couldn't help but look at her, not just because she was that pretty but because, well, there wasn't that much to watch on stage. She glanced my way and saw me watching. I just mouthed, "Hi." She grinned, looked away, then a moment later, looked back my way again. Next thing I knew, she was approaching me for a dance. It took a little bit for me to catch on to what she was saying, given the "music," but soon I caught on and I wasn't going to pass her up.
We took the booth that looked right out into the club -- no door, no curtain, no thing -- just in broad view of everything. Dances were $20/song, and I very much enjoyed the first three. I didn't know what the ground rules for the place -- or for her -- were, so I kept my hands to myself, pretty much. She was upfront about the song count, letting me know when each song ended, which was a major plus in the win column for her. At the end of the third dance, she asked if I wanted to continue. What could I say, but, "Yes!" She had me move to a booth at the end of the row, a bit more in the dark and pretty much out of casual view of club-goers, then went for a drink of water.
We started up on a string of four songs. I was hoping she'd get a little more handsy, but she got more into chat mode. My first time in a club in six months, I got a bit distracted and disconnected. And then she asked me a question that really threw me off any sort of strip-club game: What gave me the most joy in my life? For the life of me, I couldn't think of a damn thing -- and that just blew me out of the strip-club waters. At the end of the fourth song, I told her I was going to call it a night. She said she was going up on stage, asked if I was going to stick around and watch her, but I said I was just going to take off.
I was actually enjoying myself up to that point, but she had to talk. Why do dancers have to talk? Why do they have to fill that silence? Why do they have to know about up and connect and bond with us? Why can't they just play up the fantasy and count the cash they collect from us? Urgh.
Overall, except for some of the time I spent with that dancer, I can't say I enjoyed being at Augie's. The lighting and the music are just way too loud for my tastes and tolerances, the music is something I cannot and will not enjoy, and, except for that one lone dancer, none of them caught my eye and held it. Plus, nothing really says welcome like going through a metal detector or seeing a tip jar made of what looked like barbed wire.
Yeah, I think I'm going to pass on any future visits to Augie's.
