Found myself TRAPPED IN VAIDEN ON...

Found myself TRAPPED IN VAIDEN ON A FRIDAY NIGHT. (No lie. I consider it a fate near to, if not worse than, death.) For various reasons I had to wait in that town, so, like a good TUSCL member, I visited this club. From about 9:00 to 10:30 I checked out the talent. I was pleasantly surprised, especially considering my previous visit. I knew the required 2-drink minimum would be coming my way, but it's still annoying for it to be kept a secret until after you pay your cover -- obviously a ploy to bilk customers, and indicative of this club's attitude toward customer service. There were two, maybe three, attractive women dancing, and I had two privates, one from "Calico," a long skinny goth-ish thang, and one from a typical blonde California type. Well, former California type. Her huge fakies had long since descended, Hindenburg-like, towards her navel. In fact, if I had to say there was a theme for the night, I'd say the theme was "dangly tits." Many of the girls have good dancer bodies, or at least good "petite" bodies, but then when the top comes off and you see the pancakes reach the floor, it's just, well, umm, nevermind. I didn't dislike my stay here, but it's clearly geared to married uneducated white men who've told their wives they're out deer hunting, in terms of dancer dress, attitude, music selection, beer choice, decor, DJ jokes, dancer contact. Read: red-neck honky-tonk. Not necessarily bad, but also not necessarily good. It has all the positives and negatives associated with that. A middle-class black man would probably feel comfortable here, as long as he was wearing a polo shirt or brand new Eddie Bauer camoflage-print pressed ironed starched khakis. But a black working-man in auto mechanic's shirt, or some younger black dudes in ghetto rapper headscarves and baggy jeans? No way, they'd get the shit kicked out of 'em by a bunch of Texas sized cowboy boots.