Sugar Daddies on Deck

On a Sunday evening, the dancers flock to the VIP booths and their sugar daddies while leaving the rest of us with no stories to tell. After each dance on stage, those who want to monopolize a dancer's time for the rest of the night would straight up walk up to the dancer and leave a wade of twenty $1's and tell her that he would buy her a dinner of crap junk food.

The roster was real short: under 10 dancers. They would do their short, lackadaisical, and uninterested dance on stage, and then head straight to the VIP booth. No conversation with the newbies and not even a "hi." The only time someone approached me was a hot server in her lace undies telling me that I can't fall asleep in the club. Oh well, I wouldn't have if there was actually something to see...

$10 cover. $5 drinks. Time wasted in a sketchy corner of the city.