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10 years ago
Yeah, it sounds like the owner's eye got too big for the budget and the market. He really needed to pace himself and any improvements and additions. On a less serious note, he should've called in Jon Taffer (Bar Rescue) *g*
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10 years ago
Stupid auto-correct anyway <g> But considering she's British, there would be the sound of her accent, too, so you really can't go wrong with "sound" in this context.
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10 years ago
Warhawk, yeah, you can pretty much thank San Jose Guy for that. I don't think he even noticed the Lena hit the Ignore button on him back on October 13.
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10 years ago
And if they do get legislated away like alcohol in the '20s, I'm sure any number of speakeasy-type strip joints will open up.
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10 years ago
Gotta agree with Lopaw on what might've happened. And it is a great read. Thanks, John!
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10 years ago
Lena, sorry, but this reply doesn't really "click" a whole lot with me either. And I didn't really see your reply to Lopaw as being so much subtle as obtuse.
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10 years ago
Lena, wow, your reply to Lopaw sounds really condescending toward men. Do you really believe that we don't exercise a discerning eye in strips clubs, that we go there largely to sooth our emotional woes? Because, personally, the vast majority of women I've met have far more baggage than men. The difference is that men tend to compartmentalize things, whereas too many of the women I've met (and these are largely strippers) tend to haphazardly spill their baggage over everything and everyone.
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10 years ago
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shailynnThey never tell you what you need to know.
Papi, sometimes it doesn't hurt to check out the dayshifts, too. It could be a completely different atmosphere at that time.
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10 years ago
I'll be the first to say that I have absolutely no fashion sense, and, in a club setting, it really doesn't impact me. I'll go into a club with some subconscious expectations on what a dancer might or should be wearing -- gowns in higher-end clubs, one-piece minis and other party-style clothing in probably what you might call the middle-class clubs, and anything from blue jeans and t-shirts to street-walker clothing in the dives, with bikinis and lingerie tossed in to random clubs at random times. Nuts, one higher-end club I went to in Indianapolis, I met two dancers -- a gorgeous, older brunette in an evening gown and a girl-next-door blonde in a bikini -- at the same time. The occasion is also going to make a difference. I've been to a couple of clubs where the ladies dressed up in costumes for Halloween and seen some in sports jerseys after sporting events.
But I've never been influenced by a dancer's color or clothing choices (at least not to my knowledge).
No, the thing that really gets my attention is eye contact and a smile, especially if it's from a distance, such as when she's on stage, and I *know* she's looking at me. Course, when she yells, "Hey, Geek! Get up here and tip me already!" then I know that she's talking to me <g> And, yeah, I go a-running.
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10 years ago
A couple other ideas:
1) The mooch. She sits with you. She yammers on and on and on. And she asks you to buy her drink after drink, munchie after munchie, and, even occasionally, a lap dance. She also tries to get you to buy everything on the menu for her BFFs, too. In the end, you're paying out the nose for just a couple of relatively lame lap dances.
2) Fish out of water. Dancing takes a very particular mindset, especially in clubs where dancers work for those extra tips in the VIP or OTC. Sometimes though, a woman will take a job there to try to make the bills, but this job is too far outside of her comfort zone. These women will give half-ass lap dances and either cut their time short with a customer or cling to you, hoping you'll give them more money. Or they'll get so stinking drunk or stoned trying to deal with the job, you'll still wind up with half-ass lap dances and wishing you're any place else.
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10 years ago
The Skunk. I had to deal with one of those once at one of the classiest clubs in the Twin Cities. It really so much body odor as the stench of cigarettes. I could smell her from ten feet away. We made brief eye contact, I shook my head and crossed my legs, but she kept on coming. She tried prying my legs apart -- she said she wanted to sit on my lap -- but I didn't budge. I just told her, "No thanks," and (eventually) she left.
Maybe I missed it among the three articles, but I figured there'd be one called "The Life Story" or maybe "The Tragedy." I had to deal with a couple of those at one club.
One middle-aged dancer plopped herself down at my table and immediately started telling me about how her mother had died months earlier and how I should spend more time with my own mother and blah-blah-blah. Luckily one of my ATFs wandered into sight; the moment I gave the ATF a small wave, The Tragedy got all uppity, said she was wasting her time with me, and left.
Another time, I had just settled in for a bed dance with a very cute young woman -- who's mother had killed herself a couple months earlier and now she was seeing her every place. Yeah, I didn't get any more dances from her that night.