An experience

On a recent trip to SoCal with my wife to discuss music plans for a movie with a composer friend, we walked across at PedWest and took a taxi to the south end of Revolution Blvd., the Main Street. We were headed to Caesar’s restaurant for the famous salad of the same name. I recommend it, but here’s where it became interesting. My wife said she had overheard me talking to a friend that I had “read” that “The best stripclub in the world was in TJ”. She said she was curious and could we go? I know we’ve had adventures to stripclubs in the past but we’re greytops now. Then again, why not? I checked Google maps even though I knew where it was and we walked a few more blocks north to Hong Kong. At the door I was patted down as per procededure and just see her reaction, I indicated to my wife that she was next. This flummoxed the doorman as he repeated “We don’t do that.” There was a trio of young servicemen at the door who asked her if she was really going in there. She said, “Why not?”. She was given a wrist band that I assumed meant that she was a customer not a worker. A waiter sat us at a table and we got a couple of beers to watch the dancer swing from a trapeze ring while removing her clothes. Many other reviews have noted the layout and the various body types. These reviews give you a good idea of the activity and noise levels even on a early afternoon. A waiter brings over a smiling young girl and asks if I’d like her. I declined and he indicated she’d also be good for my wife. We broke out laughing. No thanks, not today. I had explained about the $1 touching and groping (that I had read about) with the girls lined up on the rails. My wife volunteered a dollar, but only one, if I wanted to partake. Passing on the offer, our observation expedition came to an end and we too a cab back to the border.