Should have just gone to the grocery store. Pettier women, and I'd have accomplished something.

Based on some past negative experiences, it had been awhile since I'd been to The Bird. It's a bit of a drive for me, and requires some driving on very rough and gravelly roads, so it hadn't been my first choice when the urge for some grungy fun reared its head. IN fact, it had been a couple of years, and I decided that things might have well changed since my prior disappointments.

Oh well, hope springs eternal.

I arrived about 2:00PM and there were maybe 6 cars in the front parking area. I didn't want to be the only monger in the place, but had hoped there would be some available...and hopefully bored...girls to assist me. Walking in, I wondered if they were really open. There was no music playing, no girls on any of the stages, and nobody behind the two bars. There had been no door man at the door (although I paused after entering to make sure I didn't need to pay an entry charge) and basically nothing to convince me there hadn't been a recent zombie attack that had consumed he occupants.

I made my way to the bar, and a very pretty young woman appeared to take my order. I asked if I had come at a bad time, and she just laughed and said that every body was "in the back". I waited and drank my drink for about another ten minutes when I saw two dancers walk out, look at me from across the room, say something to each other, and sit down at a table near the stage. Now, I may not look like I own a private jet, but I'm clean cut and don't look like a cop or a douchebag. It was about another ten minutes and another drink before one of the women got up and came over to my spot at the bar. As she approached, I immediately wished she would veer off and go somewhere else. She appeared to be at least mid-forties, with what can charitably be described as neglected teeth. We chatted for a bit. I could honestly not understand about two-thirds of what she was saying, as she was slurring and seemingly on the edge of sleep. I finally excused myself to go the the men's room, and mercifully, when I returned, she had disappeared. My eyes had become accustomed to the low light by then, and upon passing by the dancer's table, I could see that the other girl was much heavier, older, and more inked than I prefer in a dancer. Guessing that I had probably inspected the entirety of the cast of entertainers, I didn't bother to retake my bar stool, instead walking directly to, and out of, the front door. Oh well. I know enough about the industry to understand that the day shift at a strip bar is seldom composed of first-string varsity players, but this had been simply awful. I bid The Bird goodbye for what would likely be another couple of years and drove east.