Halloween?

an un-costumed roster of seven dancers on a 3-8 scale, and a pathetically sparse audience of three to seven PLs. either the steep cover (twenty plus five for a water-and even higher if you BYOB) or the basically average quality of the tatted (and one nose ring) young twenty somethings def keep the crowds down. gurls deliver a full and upclose gyno show in decent lighting over the longest sets imaginable, made more interminable by the absence of anyone tipping ringside, since the smattering of overweight boys in plaid and beards and the mandatory pair of migrant laborers are all ogling or dozing back benchers. the minimal hustle for lappies and VIPs amounts-if anything- to a quick drive by and go. since i've perfected the mien of professional indifference long ago, only the lithe young rhianna-like sister ventured my way...unfortunately her breath stank, she declined my proffer of a bar side gratuity twice, slapping her hand on my stack and calling that for stage dancing only, then muttered some snide retort before huffing off...and oh, whoever purchased their new line of flimsy bar stools at the outlet should be shot, you'll shake, wobble and tumble while you hold on for dear life in the poorest excuse for a chair you'll ever experience...no wonder i was the only idiot in one...