May Be Charlotte's Best Eye Candy

Pulled up at 10:45 on a Friday night, saw the valet, and was able to find free parking on the side of the building. Was greeted outside the front door by a bouncer who told me I would not be allowed into the club in sweat pants – which was a first for me. (Actually, that's probably more a reflection on the dive clubs I often go to.) My sweats are actually tailored Nike track pants that look dressier than jeans, which was the only other choice I had, but whatever. My hotel was only a couple of minutes away. I asked if jeans would be acceptable and he said yes. He was nice about it – and apologetic – but firm.

Came back and paid $12 to get in, had my ID scanned, and was given a membership card. Once inside, two hostesses greeted me and offered to show me to a table; I said I preferred to sit at the bar. The place was very, very posh and very large – a big open room two stories tall, with a balcony that overlooked everything on three sides of the room. At the time, I was told they had two bars open – both on the first floor – and I could sit at any open chair at either bar. A bottle of Fiji water was $6.50.

There was one large stage and two small, round, one-dancer satellite stages (plus an additional stage upstairs which was not in use at that time). The girls would do two songs on each of the three stages, first one clothed, second one topless, then rotating to the next stage. I lucked out by finding a seat at the end of the bar that was only about five feet from one of the small side stages, so it was like my own private air dance. I tipped the girls, and light touching was allowed.