Trying to be classier than others on Bourbon Street

I walked by Rick's on my way down Bourbon Street and the guy at the door told me to come in. I put him off, saying, "maybe on my way back through". Amazingly enough, when I walked back the other way two hours later he remembered me. I was going to just walk past and head home to my hotel, but he held up a hand and said "You said on your walk back..." with a smile. I asked how much cover was, and he said he'd "let me in for free". I don't know if it was slow and he was bored or if there wouldn't have been cover anyway on a Monday night (not quite midnight).

Inside, the club was done up with black seats and something about the decor suggested they were going for a slightly classier vibe than perhaps others on Bourbon Street, though with limited success. They've either renovated more or did a better job of hiding the age of the property than, say, Larry Flynt's Hustler Club, which I'd been at beforehand. The space was relatively narrow and went somewhat deep away from the entrance. There was a mid-sized stage along the left wall, raised high enough that there wasn't really traditional rail seating, though there were a few tables alongside.

The club was nearly dead when I arrived. It was Monday and, to be honest, most of the French Quarter seemed pretty dead all day and evening. Mid August must not be a good time to visit New Orleans. In any case, there were only one or two other customers there when I entered. There was one dancer on stage, a little overweight but not glaringly so. She was swaying, not really dancing, in a dress that she eventually took off (stepping back stage to do so). After she got off stage, the next dancer was more attractive, and very slightly more enthusiastic about dancing. Both ignored the pole.