Very disappointed in Penthouse lately. Something...

Very disappointed in Penthouse lately. Something has hit the skids -- maybe the hottest girls have decided to go to some other club in the city, maybe the management has decided that they're doing well enough on the basis of extremely-high-rolling customers and therefore don't need to bother with average-rolling customers like me -- I don't know the reason. But I've just had very negative experiences the last couple of times.

One occasion a dancer grabbed my fountain pen from out of my blazer breast pocket with a "oo that's nice let me look" comment, much to my surprise. I had to physically wrestle it away from her, demanding it back, unable to get any staff attention or help. She was just going to keep it. She gave some excuse with the "you don't want to give it to me?" Bullshit, she thought she could steal it and was surprised that I put up so much of a fight. It was a damn Waterman with gold trim, she probably thought it was nothing more than a dime-store variety, and given her likely level of worldly experience and education she probably can be excused for not knowing the differences among cheap-crap gentlemen's accoutrements and really legitimate ones. Nevertheless, this episode shows you the level of respect the dancers have for the customer: it shouldn't matter whether the customer's things are cheap-crap or high-quality, a dancer should never TAKE THEM.

On another occasion, I thought I had left some eyeglasses at the counter. (Turned out I had them in another jacket.) I went to ask, but couldn't get the trampy little twit at the front door to pay attention. She'd ask, "Now what were you looking for again?" but then raise her finger and interrupt me right in the middle of "I think maybe my eyegl ..." to go back to chatting with Fritzie on the cell phone. Two sentences into the cell phone later, I'd get another, "Wait, what was it you were looking for?" and I'd try again, "I think my eyegl ..." but kaboom she'd interrupt and go do something else and raise her arrogant little finger in a gesture of "shut up you're unimportant." I didn't ever get to ask her about my glasses. In her defense, I do have to admit that it's not her responsibility to be an adept and vigorous lost-and-found office, although at the time there wasn't anyone else nearby to distract her except via her cell phone. But the episode shows just what level of respect the little trampy twit at the front door has for the customers.