An expedition into the unknown at a very small establishment

I've never been in or even noticed Dancing Bare before, but I happened to be in the neighborhood with some time to kill on a dismal rainy Saturday afternoon when I saw it. What the hell, I thought, and stepped through the door.

You enter through a small and dingy porn shop, where the cashier relieves you of $10 as a cover fee. Before taking my money he warned me that there was only one dancer on duty as yet, but promised that more would arrive in a few hours. Oh well I thought--it's only 10 bucks, let's meet the one dancer. So I go inside and get a glass of water (that $10 included my two drink minimum, but no booze in strip clubs in Seattle) and look around while the cashier goes to find the dancer. The place is small, with a stage with some little tables in front of it and couches on the side. The decor is modest and run down, but kind of homey. Reggae is playing on the stereo. There is not a soul in sight. I look around for awhile and sit down, drinking my water. Before I know it I've finished that, and I'm laughing at myself for even coming in.

Finally "the" dancer emerges from the back. She is older, a little heavy, with big natural tits.Her ethnicity is somewhat obscure--some blend of hispanic I suppose. You certainly would not call her very pretty but she's got a certain something about her. She is neither particularly friendly or unfriendly--she says hello and asks if I want a dance in a tone of voice that says, "i came out because I heard there was a guy out here who wanted a dance." Which, fair enough, is kind of what happened. So naturally I say yes.