Strange Time

I had a visit planned at the local casino for a fantasy football draft weekend and decided to head out a night earlier to check out the talent at a local establishment. My friend and I pulled into the easily accessible parking lot around 11:00 PM, taking note of the lack of vehicles but hoping for the best. The doorman politely greeted us and informed us that there was a $10.00 cover that night to which we informed him that we had visited their website and received our free admissions pass.

The venue itself is quite small with only one stage but has tall ceilings so it doesn’t feel overly cramped. My friend and I sat at the bar and were pleasantly surprised by a very inviting bartender whose corset lingerie outfit left little to be imagined. She informed us that it was $3 import bottles of beer and $5 bombs which is a pretty good deal when you are planning to have the kind of weekend that we were.

I surveyed the club and noticed seven ladies working with characteristics spanning a range of five to seven being mutually agreed upon by my friend. We both thought the blonde, corset wearing bartender was the most member swelling lady in the club. After talking to a couple other patrons we decided that we wouldn’t have any better luck at the other clubs in the area and decided to get comfortable.

The next thing that happened I can honestly say I have never experienced before. There was a male patron sitting to the left of my friend who struck up a nearly unintelligible conversation with us which included him attempting to purchase us a multitude of shots. He then took my friends hat and proceeded to smell the brim and demanded that he also let him wear his glasses. It turns out that this poor drunk fellow was combing the clubs for a homosexual fling. A very strange encounter given the location but we got more than a few free drinks before he realized he was getting nowhere, fast. I guess that is what an attractive woman feels like when receiving unsolicited drinks on singles night.

As for the actual talent. Nothing spectacular to report. Indiana has a no nips law so pasties on all the dancers. We didn’t get any private dances as we were more entertained by the persistent attempts by a particular patron to smell the ass crack of every performer when on stage. He made it through three dancers before the fourth one decided she didn’t care how many singles he stuck in her G-string.