Rough Diamonds

Dear Lord. Passing through town and stopped by to check this place out. It's a little north of Syracuse's main commercial center but easy enough to find, in a quiet industrial-estate zone, and with ample parking. There were about 3-5 girls hanging around, and a similar number of bored-looking customers. Little actual dancing going on; every now and then a girl would stir herself to go over to the stage and gyrate half-heartedly for three minutes or so. Overall, these girls seemed to come in two categories: (a) young but too out-of-shape to make it in a more upscale club, and (b) worn-out and finishing off their stripper-heel days.

One 'girl' who looked as though she'd never see 45 again - though the 60-a-day smoking habit hadn't helped, judging by the smell of her clothes - interrupted scoffing down her lunch long enough to drape a thigh over me. Her breath reeked of garlic, her demeanor of desperation. I passed on the offered dance. Frankly, she would have had to pay me. Another girl (actually a girl this time) had a cute face but was carrying at least 50 lbs too much on her hips, and while I like curvy women, there's a need for moderation in everything. Her cellulite-laden flanks did nothing for me. A third girl, mid-20s I would guess, looked mixed-race, was prettier, and I had enjoyed feeling her up a little in a brief backstage dance, but wasn't tempted to go any further. What can I say? The bar-staff were friendly. It's certainly a no-pressure joint. It's also a no-talent joint. Hard to imagine ever bothering again.