I visited Club Pussycat around 11pm...

I visited Club Pussycat around 11pm on a Friday night on a tip that this was one of the clubs on The Block that I could find some white women. There was not cover at the door and the club was kind of dead for a Friday night with only seven or eight patrons. The inside is narrow and extends back quite a ways. On the left is a long bar with a long, narrow stage behind it pressed up against a mirrored wall. An area to get private time is in the far back of the club and did not look super private. The club has a lot of bright neon lights flashing in it. Music is selected by the dancers on an internet jukebox. They would typically dance three songs each on stage, then come down and ask each customer for a tip for their dancing. A dollar would usually be enough to get rid of them. Drinks here are pricey. A bottle of Budweiser cost me $8. The bartender Mark is a nice guy, but he pressures you a little to buy dancers drinks when they come over to you. As soon as the dancer says, “Hello, my name is ____,” he has a coaster plopped down on the bar. As soon as you wave him off, he immediately picks up the coaster, and the dancer abruptly leaves. If you do not buy the dancer a drink (which start at $25), she cannot even sit and talk with you. Buying larger more expensive drinks will allow a dancer to spend more one-on-one time with you. This is a strange system that I have not seen often outside of downtown Baltimore.

Although I had found a place in downtown Baltimore with a majority share of white dancers, the talent here was not very good looking. They averaged about a 4.5 on a 10 point scale. Two were easily in their late thirties and weighed more than me. Only one dancer out of the ten working that night was attractive to me: Lacey. She hit me as soon as I came in the door, and I turned her down because I wanted to take in the full line-up. For the rest of the ninety minutes I was in the club, she avoided me like the plague. Here is some Block wisdom: If you see something you like, just jump on her right away. Since finding a 7 or better on The Block seems to be like hunting for diamonds in the rough, don’t waste your time on being overly-picky. Through the course of my time at Club Pussycat, every single dancer approached me at the bar looking for me to buy her a drink. Dancers’ payouts from the club are obviously based on how many drinks they can get customers to buy for them in a shift. If you go to the back with a dancer, you must pay the bar for a drink costing $60/10 minutes, $80/15 minutes, or $100/30 minutes. This is just the clubs cut; you must then negotiate a tip for the dancer on top of what you paid for the drink/time. Private time seemed like it could get pricey here even if you could negotiate better than Henry Kissinger.

On my way out I wanted to take a piss. I went to the washroom and was surprised to find a tiny ten square foot closet with a single toilet filled with trash. My shoulders bumped up against both of the side wall, and I was feeling claustrophobic. I could not take a piss in a space so tiny and so dirty, so I held it and took off. This was the only restroom for patrons.