Reviews by CtDan

Walked in because I had some time to waste. I went to the bar and sat down hoping to order a beer. Which took too long, but I finally got a drink. Some half-drunk stripper with medium qualities (nothing to write home about but nothing awful) struck up a conversation and I bought her a drink. So things were progressing along as they often do in some run of the mill strip joint on a slow weekday night. We finished our cocktails while exchanging pleasantries, and both decided we'd like another. However, the bartender was busy yapping it up with a different stripper and her mark. My stripper spent a few minutes trying to get the bartenders attention, and then I followed suit. Neither of us had any success. So this whole situation was going nowhere quickly. I politely told her I was leaving to go somewhere to have a drink. She was none too happy because there really were not any other patrons. Anyways, as I was walked past the doorman, I suggested he might considering hiring a bartender for the evening. To which he retorted there is one and pointed. So I added, perhaps one who serves drinks! As I promptly left. This place has no mojo. It's a desolate shell of what strip joints used to be. A complete waste of time and money. I'm sure that, with some effort, you can find some slut to meet elsewhere. But you'd better be patient and put in some effort to wade through the muck.

I visited the Fifth Alarm twice over the past week. Once during the day, and once at night. Mostly for the fond memories of this club, which I started visiting in the mid-1980s. The layout hasn't changed. But good god, these men who are dancing on stage are disgusting. While I'm not a good looking fellow, at least I'm also not getting on stage strutting my stuff. During the daytime, on a Tuesday, there were probably eight dancers working. Not one was above a three, maybe a four. While I was back in the area on Thursday, I stopped by that evening. It got worse! I passed through a thorough security check, and paid a five or ten dollar cover. Which bought me the privilege of being completely ignored by the bartender (who forgot my drink), and watching even more hideous dancers, compared to during the day, sort of gyrating on stage. I think my beer was around five bucks during the day. No lie, I couldn't tell you what the charge was at night because the bartender walked up, asked what I was drinking, and then spaced out. Which was actually a blessing because it resulted in a more hasty departure. Meanwhile, as I left, there was a homeless person taking a selfie across the road as he walked up Worthington Street. I cannot figure what that was about. Besides him, there was nobody lingering around. Which was not the case during the day, which is seemingly due to curfew being a called in the early evening at the homeless shelter next door - so daytime is hangout time in the lot and across the street. This was a fun bar to visit 35 years ago. I enjoyed the place, and had success getting some takeout ten years ago. But since, wow. Just awful.

I walked in on a Thursday evening around 6pm. There was a very weird vibe in the club; very uncomfortable - for a reason I still cannot put my finger upon. I walked in through the door, found a spot at the bar, and ordered a beer for about $5. The bartender was moderately attentive, and ancient. The bouncer was anchored at the bar, chatting with the most attractive dancer in the club; a 30-ish blonde. A dancer who is not my type was on stage (concentration camp lean). Two busty older women kept peaking out from the ladies room to see what was transpiring in the club (one white, one black). I had read somewhere that the chesty African American dancer was fun in the lap dance area, so I held hope that might work out. But, she kept to herself behind a closed door from which she poked her head out every few minutes. The chesty white woman, bought a pack of smokes, donned a Winter coat and went outside. Upon return, she was grabbed by a patron for a dance. And the blonde who was locked down by the bouncer did the same. Which put the lap dance area at 100% full. So I left. There was nothing fun, exciting, or worthy of return.

I walked into this familiar club, that I have now visited for 35 years. I don't think the interior has changed one bit over that time. Although, it has recently had some minor exterior renovations to the entrance area. On this Friday afternoon, I breezed past the area where oftentimes there is a bouncer charging a cover. I sat at the bar and ordered a fairly priced beer. There were eight or ten patrons, and half as many dancers. Most dancers were locked down with a customer drinking and talking. I plopped myself down at the stage, and was entertained by a stick-thin brunette who was above average a showing off her body. Although not my type, I agreed to a few $25 lap dances, which were fun but nothing over the top. We exchanged numbers, and I got a "hi" text the next day from whatever her name was. My last time here (or second to last time) resulted in pretty much the same thing, and ended with the stripper wanting to go out on the town for some ridiculous fee. I didn't see this time going any differently, so I just kept moving along with life without going down that slope. Mr Happy's was fun, and didn't disappoint, for a minor Friday afternoon diversion.

I visit MG2 because it is the closest club to my home. It's not my least favorite club of all time, but close. The bartenders are, for the most part, inattentive. The dancers, for the most part, are locked down with regulars. The bouncers - and other support staff - are for the most part, unfriendly. With that said, you can work you way into getting a drink if you keep at it. Go to the stage to engage a stripper, and that will lead to some inexpensive ($20) lap dances. The dances vary by stripper, as is always the case anywhere. Weekday daytime tends to be a bit more fun. There is really no need to go to the Champagne area, as it is monitored as heartily as the lap dance area. All in all, if there were another alternative in the area, it would almost certainly be a better one. But, there really is not. Especially with the sister-clubs in Springfield being up for sale and similarly on the decline.

I had not been to this bar since it was renamed Crystal Blue. After reading what I felt was a pretty positive review here on TUSCL in which some dancer went to town on the reviewer for $80, I figured why not venture down to the former Ultra Violet. So off I went. The bar is exactly as it was under it's two most recent iterations. You can drive right past it if you are not paying a lot of attention. Enter the club, the bar is to the left, the stage is to the right. $5 cover. Roughly $6 for a beer. Entering the club, there was a mulatto "five" or "six" on stage, who danced seductively with a very interesting tendency to visually lick the air with her long tongue - clearly showing that feature of hers off. Her body was a five, her face a five, but her attitude and inference with her tongue action earned her a few extra dollars and put her on the "plan B" list as I sat and perused the talent. The next girl (a brunette) was easily a nine - by anybody's standards. Her body was near perfect, very attractive face, and she was in her early twenties. She easily could have made it on the "A" list in any strip joint I have visited in my forty years of visiting strip joints. I'm thinking, "what is this girl doing dancing in Willimantic? as she meekly came over and whispered "don't judge me, it's my first night." Now, her lips were moving, and she is a stripper, so I took that with a grain of salt. But, my determination to take this young dancer for a private dance increased ten fold. But, some dude had her locked down like a steel drum. She dutifully went right back to him at the bar as soon as her time on stage ended. The dancers dressing area was like a Cheech and Chong movie whenever the door opened. Even though the manager was continually trying to combat the stench by spraying the bar down near that area, the reek of weed was permeating the club. A somewhat chunky brunette with a very nice face and even nicer rack took to the stage. I enjoyed her dancing, and with the "first night" brunette locked down, I decided to take her for a few laps. Lacking any chemistry at all, it was very clear that our time behind the curtain was going to be limited as she imposed rule after rule about how things were going to progress. Plus she was getting really sweaty as she danced, so that wasn't fun by any stretch of the imagination. A blonde who looked like she should have been cast in "Trailer Park Boys" was on stage, and I took a seat. While not the most attractive woman I have seen dance (tons of makeup and a body without any curves albeit a fair set of breasts), she was very attentive and aggressive with her dances at the stage - nuzzling up and licking my ear for example. So I figured I would take her to the back once off stage. But then her boyfriend walked in and whispered something in her ear while she was in the middle of song two. She got up, took her stuff, and left. Not "left the stage." They left the bar to partake in whatever good news he had rushed in to share with her. The really hot young brunette went outside with the mulatto not-so-hot frizzy hair mulatto to smoke more weed. The chunky brunette sat by herself at the bar nursing her drink. I left because nobody was on stage and three of the four "dancers" had gone missing.

MG2 layout is pretty straightforward. You enter through a set of doors to find another set of doors. Through that second door is a bouncer, to whom you give an ID and $5. In front of you is a bar. To the left of the bar is a stage. Behind the stage is the lapdance area. Behind the bar is the VIP area. I've generally found the bartenders to seem overly busy, but given that no more than two-dozen people are drinking at any given moment, this doesn't add up. The only bartender who does a good job is a MILF blonde who works some weeknights; she's more than pleasant, good looking, and keeps up with the pace. The chunky brunette female manager is a train wreck, both behind the bar, and when she is in the house "managing." The vibe of the club takes a weird turn for the worse, with most employees (including dancers) somewhat paranoid about her antics. Drinks are in the $5-$6 range. Lapdances are $20 a song, and the songs are more than fair in length. Dancers do a good job of establishing their boundaries as to what they will (and will not) let go on during a lapdance. With the right Mrs. Right, perhaps, but not often. This is the only place where I regularly find dancers making math mistakes in my favor when I ask "how many dances is this?" Everywhere else, it is the other way around. Both lapdances I had on my recent visit were overshadowed by concerns (two different girls) about "her" being around - meaning the manager. One culminated with the DJ giving us the stink eye throughout our dances to the point where the dancer apologized for his demeanor and continual staring. I kind of felt that he had banged her at some point and was jealous - which means he has chosen the wrong profession. Maybe it was something else, I don't know and really don't care. All I know is that I don't go out to bars to get my balls busted. Previously, I've seen and heard bouncers getting overly upset and almost threatening over nothing (customers cutting through to the left of the bar instead of the right of the bar to go to the mens room, for example). MG2 is convenient, but I am going to keep myself on a short financial leash with this already marginal joint. If I catch any further attitude from a bouncer, I will simply drive another 20 minutes when in the mood. I don't mind spending a fair amount of money in a strip joint, but not the have some dude in a bad mood give me a hard time over taking a lap dancer for a lap dance.

I stopped by Mr Happy's after making an investigatory run to a bar right around the corner that was simply awful. There were no models hanging out at the bar that is named "Models Hangout" and bills itself as the place were "aspiring models hangout." So I left and stopped by Mr. Happy's since I was in the neighborhood. I invoked my "ten minute rule," which is if I am not entranced by a stripper in a strip joint within ten minutes, I leave. I like this rule because I have found that in 99% of cases, if I violate my ten minute rule, I regret it. Strip joints are expensive and boring places to hang out unless you get yourself involved with a stripper. Mr. Happy's is going through some modest exterior renovations. I passed through the entrance (currently under construction), and entered the same bar that has been there for decades. Down the ramp into the stage and bar area, I went. It was a Sunday afternoon, and there were about five dancers. A moderately attentive bartender served me my beer quickly. Of the dancer crew, there were only two whom I thought were above fours. Both were engaged in deep conversation with other patrons (neither of whom seemed to be spending any money on them). A dancer came up to me to give things a shot, but while relatively young, she was not good looking and was not sporting anything positive in the body category. She wasn't chunky at all, but by no means "fit." As she and I exchanged meaningless banter, it became very apparent that she was wired on something. Ten minutes hit, and I left.

I keep going back to EB, in hopes it might somehow/somewhat return to it's former glory. Sadly, that's not happening. Back when EB was like chicken soup for the strip joint soul, I visited at least once a week (maybe twice). That number dropped big time as things got worse, but now - like any addict - I am back for a visit about once a month. So I feel qualified to offer an observation about how things are right now, especially in comparison to how things were six or eight years ago when this place was trending towards legendary status. The exit surcharge on the lap dance area is in effect, seemingly at all times. These means a $10 (or more often $20) tax is charged on top of your per-dance fee. The girl pays this, and will expect you to do the same by tacking it on to the dance multiple you owe. That makes sampling the talent more expensive. I've paid a cover charge, both daytime and nighttime, every time I've visiting in the past few months. Girls drinks are now consistently in the $9 range. My beers are still in the $5-ish range (modest for a club). In summary, the price of going to EB has gone up significantly - as has been reported here on TUSCL already. The overall quality of dancer has declined. In it's heyday, I would venture the average dancer rated a solid seven at EB (and that was in my younger days when some dancers were actually older than me at the time). With the range between 4 and 9. I'd say the dancers are now average for strippers in this area, and would therefore give them a five - with the range between 3 and 7. Five years ago, there were almost always two dancers on stage at any given time. Now, sometimes two, sometimes one. But, in many cases they are now inattentive. During my last visit, I watched a stripper yap on her phone in the corner for her set. While I've seen that in other places, I've never seen EB put up with that before. In summary, the quality of talent at EB has dropped by 25% or more. Perhaps its me, and young me was a more interesting companion to a younger strippers. Or perhaps, I have grown less tolerant of boring stripper talk with age (every one of these girls is studying to be a CNA, needs a better car, has a roommate who is a wack job, a couple of young kids, no boyfriend, at least a couple of fuck buddies, and at least one former jealous lover who still has issues with her choice of profession). Or maybe these dancers now sense more money in my wallet, start to salivate and go for the kill. Whatever it is, I find myself less entranced with sitting down and talking with dancers at EB. I can recall many really fun, interesting, conversations, with dancers at EB over the years - but none in the past couple of years. This is probably more on me than them. I've always been pretty good at keeping a cool head on in and keeping juniors urges at bay while I navigate the scene at a strip club. I also feel that I am quite observant of the overall vibe and tactics of the dancer crew - and have forty years under my belt at this sport. It seems to me that, as of late, the dancers at EB are much more cutthroat and shark-like than in the past. I think this is a product of how slow business has been in general. I must say, however, I was there one Friday night in June/July and it was mobbed with both patrons and dancers. As crowded as I've seen in a few years. EB is also still the place to go for what we gave grown to expect from this club's lap dance cubicles. It's just more expensive and the providers are not as hot. It is actually a smarter move, right now, in my opinion to cut right to the "VIP" option after conducting interviews in the public area of the club - as opposed to sampling a few lap dances as a means of finding Ms. Right Now. Getting phone numbers of dancers is still as simple either spending a few bucks in the lap dance room (you will get a cell number 2/3 of the time), or explaining that you are not interested in doing anything right now in the club, but would like to at a later time (you will get a cell number 1/3 of the time as long as you are discrete about it). When this place got raided a half-year ago and had to take a major time out, my phone was exploding with texts about "Hey Baby, I miss you!" as the dancers panicked about how to keep their cash flowing during such uncertain times. Overall, the trend at EB is not going in a good direction.

As I drove up to Hurricane Betty's I remembered that the last time I was here, a few years ago, I didn't like it. I wasn't sure why, but I remember embedding this club in my mind as a "no go." Having invested in the fifteen minute drive from some other spots in town, I decided to still saunter in. The club opens at 6:00 on Tuesday, and I arrived at approximately 6:45. The bouncer mentioned that there was a $5 cover charge, that it was going to be waived, but that I would be charged the next time. Whatever. I asked when dancers would be arriving and was pointed in the direction of the DJ, who speaks like the is the person in charge. A nice enough guy, he explained that he had three dancers in the back and more on the way. I nursed a beer for an easy ten minutes as we made small talk, until a 30-ish thin as a rail white chick appeared. I asked her if she'd like to dance, to which we retired to the back corner of the lap dance area. As we entered the second song, she said "this is number two" to which I agreed. I always appreciate when a dancer keeps a fair ongoing count, so that there are no surprises for her, or me, when it comes time to tally up the tab. The bouncer called over "this is song three!" Which it wasn't. He then came looming over to remind me "no touching" and made some odd reference to his previous warning, which he gave me the stink I and noted that I had acknowledged his first warning. Whatever, you might think I'm a cop. Or maybe I remind him of someone who once gave him trouble. Whatever the reason is, this place sucks. The place was empty, I was paying $25 a clip for an air dance under an extremely watchful eye of a bouncer who had decided that he and I are not getting along. I asked the dancer if she had any experience at any other clubs in Worcester, to which she said no. I quietly whispered that she should check them out as I paid her for exactly three songs, put my beer down at the bar, and very nicely with a big smile said "thank you" and "goodbye" as I walked past by new buddy manning the door.

This is an old building that has been a strip joint for decades. My read on the business is "they don't care and they don't have to." I say this because the two times I have driven an hour-plus to explore the Magic Lantern have stunk. Both times, there were not enough dancers. Unless I'm missing something, this is not an easy place to get to, it's a meandering puzzle that takes ten minutes from the exit off I-90 to the East, and close to 20 minutes (past two police stations) from the exit to the West. Both times coming in from the East, I've taken (the same) wrong turn. The time I went in the other direction to leave was more confusing. One night I was charged a modest cover to enter, the other I was not. The drinks are reasonable. My first visit, there were four dancers in the bar, but two were in winding down and in the mode of waiting out their last half-hour or so until they could get dressed and leave. They hid in the back corner until 11:30 hit, went into the dressing room, changed, and left. As they were leaving in street clothes, both were chunky, one was hot, the other was not. That left two dancers. One of the remaining strippers was locked up by a customer, both on stage and at the bar. The other one was older, relatively attractive and fit. She eventually broke free from a customer who was not spending any money on her, so we finally chatted. She quoted $40 a dance, which didn't seem in line with anything I had read here, but being late in the night, I accepted. It was my mistake to use a $100 bill to buy her a drink. If I had not done that, I suspect her offer might have been different. Immediately, the one other dancer grabbed her favorite guy and joined in the glass booth. So, no privacy at all. She asks the fellow if he wants one dance for $25 or three for $60. I look at "Miss $40 a dance," she looks at me. She tries to back track, but it's late, and I was done; I kept my end of the agreement by handing her exactly $40 right up front (letting her know one and done). Although it was a fun dance, I was done; she made the choice to be a shark. It was 12:30 and closing time is clearly upon us based upon the mojo of the bar crew who is washing and stacking in order to get ready to leave. Not following my "fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me" rule, I returned a couple of weeks later. But, a little earlier. On that fateful evening, I walked into a bar that had a total of two dancers. There was an owner who was glued to his laptop in the corner by the men's room. There was a pleasant-enough bartender, who was doing her best to be nice. And there was one drunk idiot who was buying both dancers drinks while they each sat on one knee. When one finally went to dance, he went over to the stage and garnered 100% of her attention. Other customers came in, and eventually left, as this guy had locked down the entertainment for the evening. My mood had turned ugly; I had spent almost two hours in the bar, and most of that was spent milking a couple of beers while I waited to see when the village idiot would run out of his monthly stipend. By the time he did run out of money (literally emptying his pockets to leave a six crumpled singles as tip for the bartender after spending hundreds) and stagger out of the front door, I was officially done with this place. Now that she was free to dance, the blonde with tattoos showed off her smoking body. But, I had already decided that this place was not a fit for me. Kudos to The Magic Lantern to getting to a place where you no longer need to be customer focused. Running the only strip joint in town is one of the few remaining businesses where you can get away with that approach.

The quality of talent was superb on a Sunday afternoon. There were a half dozen really good looking young, thin, South American chicas as well as another half dozen good looking, curvy, Brazilian MILFs. Along with a smattering of a few born and raised in the USA dancers, and some well worn regulars who have worked the vinyl lap dance seats of EB for years. The lineup was impressive! There were at least ten dancers who I found to be solid 7s or better. And there were only ten patrons (if that), so it seemed like it should have been a buyers market. But, EB economics don't always fall in line with traditional supply and demand curves. As I sat at the rail, deciding upon which of the twenty courtesans to take up on an offer, a 30-ish white dancer with a nice, thin, body who was throwing off a "submissive" vibe suggested that we visit the back. By submissive, I mean that she was suggestively playing with the strings on my hoodie as she gazed in my eyes with a raised brow and a nod. Her attire was clearly along that line, too. That thought was intriguing enough to dismiss that she wasn't on the top-10 list in terms of looks or body, so off we went. I was rewarded with a ridiculous air dance from a foot away during which any attempt at *anything* was thwarted. Since somebody (either her or me) had clearly missed the recent memo about lap dances, I quickly stopped our time in the back, and then was aggressively informed that $80 was due for three dances. Although it seemed like one dance to me, I paid up, but checked with the bouncer on the way out. To his credit the issue with resolved and I received a refund from the queen of the air dance - which was awkward. I immediately grabbed the first young Latina in sight and took her for a few dances to figure out if there was a new set of rules regarding EB etiquette. I'm glad to say it wasn't me who missed the memo, things are the same as ever. I returned to the stage, and was bewitched by the moves of back to back Brazilians. The second could have been a young 35, or a hard-lived 25, but she had an amazing set of man made mountains paired with a Brazilian booty and a slim, firm, body. Off to the room for my third lady of the day - things were feeling back on point. After a couple of fantastic dances, she suggested some time in VIP, along with a quote of $400. Given that price, I suggested perhaps meeting outside the club might make sense. To which she readily agreed, with a quote of $1000. With a big smile, I explained that neither of those ideas worked, but I absolutely loved her negotiating work. Upon my departure from the dance area and my return to the stage, she came over and sheepishly tried to revise her quote, but my mood had soured and her cut throat nature was too clear, so I politely declined. To which she suggested, "you are out of money, huh?" I was mesmerized by the exotic Victoria, who had come to the stage, but by now I simply was not feeling the Electric Blue mojo from years gone by. As I was leaving, it was quite noticeable how the dancer crew was mulling over what to do as they huddled seemingly discussing the lack of patrons. I would suggest to start by not trying to rip off customers and not quoting prices that are double to triple the customary rate.

I walked in on a Friday afternoon, and was greeted by a moderately friendly bartender who served up a brew (thank you). There were three dancers. One brunette who looked like she had been dancing for well over a decade; she had the moves and was relatively fit, but her body and looks were on the decline. One bleached blonde, who was thin and was fantastically flexible - but otherwise wasn't above average in looks by any measure. Finally, a young brunette with a really tight body and a very friendly hands-on approach to dancing. She was earning what seemed like big tips ($5 a clip) for this place on a Friday afternoon. A very drunk fellow became smitten with her, and she quickly played him like a fiddle. She had him continually stumbling back to the ATM as she gazed into his eyes, put her arms around him, wiggled and laughed at his jokes. Upon return to the main area after a VIP visit with her, he wouldn't let go, and gave her plenty of financial reasoning to stick with him exclusively. This situation left the two below average dancers for the rest of us poor losers. Meanwhile, the somewhat attentive bartender became less so as the day moved along (she kept going outside to smoke). I eventually left without even getting one lapdance, but I have to say Lilliana, the young tight brunette, seems to be one hot seductress.

The rating for this club is on the decline, and that is understandable. Fifteen years ago this was "the place" to go, having easily taken over as a club to go for a relatively affordable great time. Layout, and management wise, it is pretty much the same place. But, the full cost of visiting has been on the steady increase over the last decade. This, in turn, created a smaller customer base. In reaction to a smaller customer base, the club has been slowing (or not so slowly) increasing prices. There is now a cover virtually every time I visit. I would say once out of twenty times, I am not charged a cover charge - and those times are seemingly random. Drinks are still priced farily, but when you buy a drink for a dancer, it now seems that it is North of $15 for your drink and her drink. I'm not sure of how the math works, or whether dancers are encouraged to buy high priced cocktails, but it the most recent press on my wallet seems to be on the cost of a dancer's drink. There is now a steady $10 or $20 cover for admission to the back area. I have no idea what it really is, because it is tacked onto to your supposedly $20 per song dance fee. Sometimes I am quoted $30 for the first song, $20 for each additional. Other times, I am asked for an additional $20 at the end of the dance. Other times, that conversation never comes up. Over the past year, there have been a few instances when a dancer has insisted upon $30 per song, which is purely a rip off attempt. What I do know is that the dancer pays some sort of a fee to the house upon exit. With an increase in cost, comes a decrease in value. With a decrease in value, came a decrease in the number of patrons. While I understand this information comes from strippers, who are professional liars in many instances, I believe that the common complaint of "not making money" at this club is real. Besides in the case of the rare young diamond, it is much more common to see most dancers working the crowd without getting a bite than it was in the past. Besides weekend nights, there are usually at least as many dancers and patrons. The quality of the dancer during my last visit was the worst I have seen ever at this club. Lots of big butts, and I don't mean that in a positive "Brazilian booty" way. Lots of very "sharky" dancers pushing, pushing, pushing, pushing - to an almost uncomfortable level. The rare young diamonds don't seem to last here, I'm not sure where they are moving on to, but they don't seem to be sticking around. This club is on a decline. From a patrons standpoint, they need to stop raising prices in order to start attracting a more robust client base, which in turn will attract a more attractive pool of dancers. Perhaps from an ownership standpoint, this is not the smartest approach in the current economic climate. Maybe it makes sense to work to squeeze the last few shekels out of an aged business before selling it off. But, if that is the case, I for one won't be patronizing as often. My number of visits to this club have already dropped to a third of where they were a couple of years ago. And looking at the crowd, I am not the only one. Sadly, there are not a lot of viable options, either. Clubs are closing.

Mardi Gras II is a very low key place, where most people just hang out. There are usually a half dozen strippers, and most are getting drunk with patrons (oftentimes favorites). This can make it difficult to grab a dancer you find to be your type, because once tied up with a regular drinking, she isn't doing much else except sitting at the bar chit chatting. There have been a number of noticeably bombed dancers here. One that I exchanged numbers with during the Summer told me she got fired for getting too drunk. Perhaps that's the truth, perhaps not, I don't care. With that said, there are typically a few dancers who are working the crowd, and I usually find choice number two or three available for a couple of dances. The food is actually above average, and is not typical strip joint scary crap. Whomever is the chef actually cares and knows how to cook. The most recent time I was hanging out at the bar and being ignored by dancers who were laughing at their favorite patron's jokes, I listened to the bartender talk about the manager and the joy that she found in observing something happening in the private rooms on video, waiting a minute or two allowing it to evolve, and then rushing in to break things up. It seemed to me she had a routine that fed some odd voyeur fetish that culminated with scaring two people during what some would consider a private and therefore embarrassing moment. Understanding that, if I had an odd fetish of enjoying being interupted in the middle of a private moment, this would be a great place to go. However, not finding enjoyment in having some sicko stalk me on video with plans of busting in on some private time that I paid for (thereby contributing to her salary), I haven't been back.

I had visited this strip joint ten years ago, and it doesn't seem to have changed. It takes two minutes for your eyes to adjust to a very dimly lit club. To the left of the doorway is a stage, surrounded by chairs, and then surrounded by a couple of levels of tables. To the right of the entrance is a bar, with a bunch of dancers hanging around looking for customers to privately entertain. Directly ahead of the doorway, sort of behind the bar is a private area, with curtained off booths. There is also an upstairs which is open during the evenings. After I entered, and let my eyes adjust, I sat at the bar and (as expected) was approached by a couple of dancers interested in joining me for a visit in the back area. The going price seemed to be something for the club ($50ish I think) and then a tip for the courtesan. The tips quoted varied from $100 to $200, with the $100 number coming in after I had declined a number of offers. I got a phone number with a promise of OTC opportunity, and then left. The drinks were reasonable, the ladies varied from below average to slightly above average. It was a pretty straightforward set up, very much like my last visit a decade ago - when it had a different name (I think it was called the Pink Palace).

I arrived at 12:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, based upon the premise of the giant sign in front announcing to the world the the Lamplighter II opens at noon. I was greeted by a locked door, so I sauntered away to find another place to hang out. I returned at roughly 2:00pm, and entered what was clearly a dive bar. I love dive bars, so I grabbed an inexpensive brew from a classic non-descript bartender. The kind of woman that would be cast in a movie about a dive bar on an afternoon in a mid-sized city on the decline. The only thing missing was the cigarette hanging from her lips. I was immediately approached by a mid-thirties stripper who was a six. Blonde, reasonable body, but a bit past her prime; probably a solid eight when she was twenty. The kind of woman that would be cast in a movie about a divey strip joint on a slow afternoon in a mid-sized city on the decline. I wandered over to the stage, which she hopped upon to giggle and wiggle. She proceeded with a lackluster dance that was simply a cover to ask me if I'd like some private time - which seemingly happened on some loveseats behind a curtained area to the left of the stage. I declined, another patron who knew her name (as she knew his) came in, and I was done as far as she was concerned. So I went back to the bar and was approached by another mid-thirties stripper who was a bit past her prime. She, too, liked what she sensed in my pants (my wallet), but I was not interested in her, either. So I left. As I walked out the front door, the bartender was out having a cigarette that was hanging from her lips and her hands on her hips as she watched the Fall day pass by outside the bar. She hacked a goodbye as I bid adieu.

After finding the door locked at 12:30 at the place down the street that opens at noon, I drove down to Centerfolds. Once my eyes adjusted upon entry, a relatively busy strip joint became apparent to my eyes as I adapted to a very dark environment. There were five strippers (perhaps a sixth who was more interested in putting her hoodie on to go outside, return, take the hoodie off, and then immediately repeat that entire process over and over and over). There was a cute brunette bartender who was friendly when you were able to get her attention. And some big guy who seemed to oversee the establishment, providing security and acting as a dj. There were a half-dozen sixty year old fellows, who clearly spent a fair amount of time in this bar. None of them were approaching the stage, that was diligently attended to by a dancer at any given moment. They all milled around at various tables surrounding the stage, but five feet away from the action. Seemingly this seating arrangement allows you to nurse a beverage and avoid tipping. Each had a favorite dancer, who knew him and he knew her. And they would eventually sit together in a dark corner seat playing footsie. As these fellows were zigging in that fashion, I zagged right up to the stage. I tipped a couple of bucks, and was greeted with an energetic Dominican dancer placing my hands on her boobies and booty while grinding for a minute or so. She was over the hill, and it would be hard to give her a five. She asked if I'd like a lap dance, which I happily accepted. Off to a room in the back that was not private at all. Other lap dances were taking place six feet away, and there was constant floor traffic going to and from perhaps the ladies room. But, with that, the dances were full of more energy than I expected, and leaving very happy would be have been an easy option if I wanted. My Dominican dancer tried to upsell me into a Champagne dance to the tune of 50 to the house and 100 to her, which I declined, and then I returned to the stage. A shorter, older, and curvey, Columbiana was dancing who took a serious liking to what was in my pants (my wallet) and suggested a lap dance after we sat down in a dark corner to play footsie for a little bit. I would have guessed 40-year-old Brazillian if she had not made me aware of her heritage. We went back for a lapdance, and I discovered she was an exceptionally aggressive woman in every regard, with extremely low morals and a penchant for talking dirty. My kind of broad. She kept trying to get me, and my wallet, into a Champagne Room (or whatever they call it) for 50 to the house plus a teeep. I passed on her repeated suggestions, and enjoyed a half dozen $25 lap dances that were as good as I've had in New England, All in full view of the endless traffic of strippers going to and from the ladies room (dressing room??) off to the side of the lap dance area. It was a great time, with a bunch of slightly over the hill trashy strippers, from which I gathered a pair of numbers for outside fun. All in the course of an hour in a club that I had never stepped foot in before in my life. I like the place.

After reading about this club, I finally took a drive to check it out. I arrived in the late afternoon, and found the nondescript bar in the middle of a residential neighborhood in Cumberland. I parked in the wrong lot, not realizing where the front and back of this club is, but once oriented got through the front door where I was greeted by an attentive MILF bartender, and served a frosty beer. There were three dancers working, and they took turns dancing on the bar, where I tipped each a couple of bucks. There were not many customers, but the dancers seemed to have regulars who stopped in for a quick hello and dance in one of four lapdance booths, which are off to the side of the bar. A very attractive female customer and her male companion were at the bar drinking, but their story as to how they came across the bar and why there were there didn't add up, which made me suspicious of what they were up to. Thankfully, they left after a half-hour. Throughout my visit, it was very obvious that the dancers were all available for private lapdances, and I took up a chunky young drunk blonde on her offer. You buy a $20 chip at the bar, which is the entrance fee to one of the sheer curtained booths. There is an egg timer on the ledge of each booth, to which the dancer sets some sort of designated time for your $20 dance. You tip your dancer as you see fit. During the early stages of my lapdance, my courtesan brought up the topic of tipping, and it became apparent that $40 was seemingly expected. I enjoyed my dance with her very much, and happily gave her what she hinted to as appropriate. After our dance, I retired back to the bar for another beverage, and then returned home. I was there an hour, saw three girls dance, had a couple of beers, and got a nice dance. All for a bit under a hundred bucks. It was a good time, and a great value. Of the three dancers, one (a mid-30s blonde) was clearly a regulars favorite, as a few patrons stopped in, quickly retired her to a booth and then just as quickly left. Another (a 40-s brunette with a nice rack who looked like she spent a lot of time on the back of a bike) said she had danced there for 27 years. Both were attractive, and fit, for their age. The third dancer was a younger, chunky, blonde, who was energetic, intoxicated, and fun. Towards the end of my visit, I saw another 35-40ish redhead with big tits come in and stake a seat in the back to eat a meal. I assumed she was about to start a shift. I'd give all of the dancers a solid "seven." No more, no less. Seven, each in their own way.

I'm not going back to Ultra Violet. There is simply no reason. It is a ridiculous strip joint. As a matter of fact, it is ridiculous to classify it as a strip joint. Based upon my last three visits, I would call it a former strip joint that now has a couple of strippers who hang out there. It has an uncomfortable vibe to it, and I feel more than qualified to make that observation, having visited literally hundreds of strip clubs over the past three decades. The reason the bar is uncomfortable is two fold. 1) there are no strippers stripping. 2) there are a small cluster of guys who seemingly now own this bar who seem immersed in this place serving their own gratification instead of trying to provide entertainment for patrons. The past three times I have been at this club, I have sat at the bar staring at few other introverted guys whom are similarly dissatisfied with the lack of naked women vying for our (paid) attention. It is really weird and uncomfortable to sit around under those circumstances. There were two dancers on duty when I last visited (August). One was a brunette stripper who is there all the time, never gets on stage, and devotes her attention to a small bevy of regulars who stop in. The other was very attractive and young, but was 110% glued to an owner, who was clearly smitten with the idea of having a hot girl half his age laughing at his jokes, telling him he is handsome, and keeping him company. Which is great for him. But sucks for anybody (like me) who went out of their way looking for a hot girl half my age to laugh at my jokes, tell me I am handsome, and keep me company.

Visited Ultra Violet around 6pm on a Thursday evening. It looked kind of closed from the outside, but it was, in fact, open. As I entered through the doorway, I was disappointed to see about six guys sitting around the bar doing nothing. That was it. I meandered to the end of the bar and sat down. And waited. Eventually a female bartender appeared from the ladies room near the entrance with what seemed to be a stripper. The bartender came to the bar, the stripper quickly went through another doorway (a second ladies room?) behind the stage near the DJ booth. The bartender apologized for the long wait, mumbling something about why she was in the ladies room with the stripper, and served me a long awaited tasty beverage. I sat at the end of that bar nursing my beer for what seemed like a long time, and then a second stripper appeared from behind me (from the outdoor patio). She was quickly scooped up by another patron and taken for a lapdance. By this point my mood had turned ugly, I was bored and tired of waiting for a dancer to get on stage. On observation was that, of the six guys in the bar, at least four seemed to work there. I say this because they stuck together near the cash register, and each of them went behind the bar at some point to look at a cooler that was apparently on the fritz before returning to their seat to rejoin their knitting circle. I finished my beer and left. In what seemed like an hour (it was probably twenty minutes), I never saw a girl get on stage. I gave the "Club Vibe" rating a two instead of a one, because my dentist doesn't serve beer. I game the "Dancers" rating a two instead of a one, because I could not call a dancer "Fugly" in this club, because I never saw one dance.

I was in the area on a Thursday night and decided to stop by. I was shocked by the number of cars in the parking lot, and again by the number of patrons in the club. It was as busy as I have seen a strip club in CT in a very long time. There were about eight girls working, but none very hard. Most were saddled up with a customer at the bar, which left nothing for yours truly. A couple were "good looking," but most were average by stripper standards. I didn't see a lot of people heading off to the lap dance areas, and I did not have an opportunity to enjoy the company of any working girls. All in all, it was disappointing to pay a five dollar cover to squeeze into a seat at the bar and watch a half-dozen girls giggle and act interested in a few guys who sat around and nursed their beers chatting with lethargic strippers.

Lately, it is always a crap shoot regarding the cover and lap dance entrance fee at EB. Sometimes there is a cover, sometimes not. Sometimes it is $10, sometimes it is $20 to the house for lap dances. But, the $20 per dance fee to the girl has remained relatively standard as of late. I visited on a Friday night. As I drove in I was concerned because the parking lot was full, so I thought there might be a ton of patrons and not enough dancers to go around. Upon entering, and paying a $10 cover, I was glad that I was wrong. For some odd reason, the lot was pretty full, but no the club. There was a good selection of girls, including all of the usuals, but I settled in on a younger Brazilian I had never seen before. Cute and firm, so off to the back. We spent a few dances and all was good. A half hour later, in that the bar was devoid of patrons, she sauntered over and suggested we return. No problem. Three songs later, I was again done and paid her $70. She told me I owed her $100 (3 songs at $30 plus $10). I politely explained it was $20 a song, and she got "Latina pissed," to which I simply moved along without much thought. She started giving me the stink eye and obviously talking other dancers about her perceived issue. I double checked with doorman, who confirmed pricing. Then, she approached me and suggested that we did four dances and that I owed her $20. I didn't need any drama, so I moved to the stage, found another dancer, took her in the back for a half-dozen songs and then went home. I've been to this club at least a hundred times, and can't recall any dispute prior to this one. But, I still don't need any shit from a 25 year old stripper.

I walked into Mr Happys, and was greeted with an unusual afternoon cover charge. Followed by an attentive bartender who brought me my beer. I met a fairly attractive dancer, who agreed to a LD. Off to the not-so-private LD area, where she was more concerned about us getting busted by the DJ than providing anything beyond the same dance that I could get for a dollar tip at the stage. After just one of those rip-offs, we retired to the bar area, where I bought her a drink and she tried to upsell me into VIP. Where she promised everything, but in reality was promising nothing. What I mean by this is that she said I would get "everything" in VIP, but she refused to clarify what that meant. While I understand her concern, I has just paid her $25 to shake her money-makers in the lap dance area and nothing more. So understand my concern. We proceeded to exchange numbers, and she offered to meet OTC for $400 or $500. For what?

Strip joints in CT are about the lap dances and upsell. MGII is no different. With the right dancer dancer, you can get one of the more aggressive and sensual dances in the area. With the wrong dancer, you will get an air dance. In between, as an example, I had a dancer of European origin spend three songs with me and then declare "ok, you have cum," the LD is over, and walk away. Which was all fine, except I hadn't cum, and arguably could not cum from what she had been providing. Odd indeed.'' I find the club to be all about getting patrons to buy a dancer a drink, and then bring her in the back. Where after a few drinks, she trys to upsell into the VIP area. Which, from my limited experience, is nothing of what I would define as VIP. It is just a commitment to continue what you were doing in the LD area in a different room at a higher price. The bartenders and dancers are friendly enough. They serve food, but one of my cardinal rules of life is to not eat food in a strip joint. I don't mind hanging out at MGII as long as I keep my head on straight about what is, and is not available, and try to control myself within those confines.