Slowly fading away

As soon as I walked in I was recognized by the doorman, bouncer, barmaid and the dancer on stage. I've got to learn to travel incognito.

A shot girl wanted to talk. I don't drink shots, but tipped anyway. She confirmed the angry and testy attitudes of dancers with their constant complaints about no money after the curtains came down. Business is off and complaining is the new indoor sport.

A former fav, "Molly," came over with her usual annoying hustle for drinks and food. I obliged because I wanted information. Molly tries to pretend that VIP is still fun. "Just ignore the guy getting head in the next booth if he looks to see how you're doing." No curtains and the walls between booths have been cut low; therefore, there is no privacy in VIP. I am advised by Coli dancers that there must be something wrong with me if I cannot enjoy FS in full view of other customers. "We're all doing the same thing--so what?" For the retro few--like me--privacy is an issue. We'll just have to see how long Detroit clubs can hang on with open VIP booths, no privacy, no extras and dead vibe.