Another night at Not My Choice

Entered the premises at around 11:30. One dancer on stage (Daisy, a heavily tatted, green haired spinner who reminds me of the vocalist in the Star Wars bar scene - I think it's the long green pony tail); no other dancers were evident. Ultimately, I saw five. None were particularly attractive - although two were pretty curvy. Unfortunately, their curves were of the convex variety (call me crazy, but I like concave curves).

The stage was vacant two thirds of the time, which when I first arrived, made sense as Choice was empty. However, by the time I left (at 12:30 AM), there were 12 to 15 patrons, so the lack of stage action just seems like apathy.

Choice is just sad. The whole place is run down; the average (non-dancer) employee is about 100 lbs over weight - heck, the TVs don't even work. It's the strip club that time forgot. The only Choice employee who shows any spark is the matron of the house. She's a horn-rimmed glasses and pants suit type who flits around like an aging drug company detailer who's misplaced her Prozac samples (or her strippers). Every few minutes she disappears into what I presume is the dressing room to, and I'm guessing here, harangue her charges into action. After about four bouts of haranging, a few entertainers trudge out into the main floor area and make desultory rounds of the patrons after which they trudge back into the dressing room presumably to play Angry Birds on their cell phones.