You know, I'll drive all the...

You know, I'll drive all the way across town to buy a dancer an $18 Red Bull! ~ This so called strip club is the perfect example of poor ownership and management right when you walk in the front door. Once Andrew Jackson Horse Stable, it's still filled with lots of horses and hogs to warm up your Friday Night like Cooder at the local tractor pull shaking off his bed bugs and his white trash hag named Edna. Don't waste your time or your money in this shit hole, if you don't get sick from club mold you'll surely hit the luxurious death on a cracker bathroom facility hurling your free buffet of chicken fingers and Bud Light. Isn't it odd clubs are not allowed to sell beer, but you can walk right across the ally from the club and buy a cheap hot dog and a brew from the parking attendant, this club isn't about hot girls or quality nighttime entertainment, it's about ripping you off! They will hire any moron who walks thru the door and slapping him in the DJ booth, and hiring any dancer with two tits a hole and a heartbeat to make the club VIP room money. There's no show, well not unless you like Stripper Karaoke, lord the last thing you ever do is give a stripper a microphone and hire one to manage the club. Once a stripper always a stripper. If this club was here to support Nashville and represent the adult entertainment industry it would be run with more class and less trash, it's nothing more than a hole in the wall where you leave drunk broke and alone and hopefully with no critters. ~