Fear and Loathing at the Kremlin

So I replenished the ol’ wallet after an hour of DD’s predatory Cubanas and insane crowds. Cheetah Thursday night was also busy, but if DDs was an 11 on a 10 scale for intensity, Cheetah’s was about an 8. I counted 4 stages and two bars, usually 4 girls doing 3 songs at a time, fully nekkid. Lots of steps all over the place so you need to be careful while walking around, especially walking out of the rear bar area. When I first got in, parking was the usual $2 payment, cover was $10. Flip side is drinks seemed a little cheaper than DDs.

Right away, things were on a lower boil. More tattoos on the women here, but also more non-Cubanas. There was at least one 9 (more on her in a minute), and lots of 7s and 8s. Probably 30 or so women working tonight.

While I sat at the back bar watching un chica Americana undressing, my eyes proceeded to undress another girl walking by, a tall blonde with Asian features and unusually big boobs. She wore a blue sports-bra-like thing and a comically short white tennis skirt with black heels. My guess was Kazakh or Uzbek (based on the flood of ex-Soviet girls to Dubai when I used to monger over there). After a few minutes where I was semi-stalking her as she walked around, she approached me for a “friction dance” ($25 each). You know this is a veteran club when they say “friction dance”. Her name rhymed with “dacha” (indeed with a Russian accent), and after precisely 30 seconds of grinding came the first invite for VIP in what was apparently her dacha. She quoted some ridiculous amount ($600 for 30 min). I had her do a second dance and she kept whispering “VIP” as she played with my Kremlin. I whispered back, “how much for 15?” She whispered back $300, and as she began waving her boobs in my face I asked “how about $175”? Rhymes-with-Dacha came back with “$300” and I realized this babe probably learned how to be warm and charming from Vladimir Putin. So I end it at two laps, took care of her, and moved on.