Return to the Lamplighter

It'd been several years since I was last at the Lamplighter, and, well, not much has changed. The hours are a bit different (probably thanks to Covid) -- 2pm to 9:45pm. At least that's what the sign says. When I called, the lady said they were open until 10, so I'm guessing 9:45's last call. They used to wand people when they stepped in; now it's more airport style, where a guy empties his pockets into a small basket and pushes that through a small window. Wish security had mentioned that the shelf on the other side was also small -- really, really small -- because I wound up dumping my keys and a couple bucks worth of coins on the floor. Yeah, great way to start the visit. I seem to remember they used to have a cover charge, but there wasn't one this time. After dumping all those coins, security might've just felt sorry enough for me to let me slide.

The Lamplighter's divided into pretty much just two sections -- the main bar, right straight off the entrance, and the dance area off to the left. The main bar's dominated by a large rectangular bar with bar stools all around it. The partition between the two spaces has a counter where people can sit, again on bar stool, eat, drink, and watch the dancers. The dance area is darker, with a stage that runs most of the length of it. Per St. Paul regs, a glass wall separates the stage from the customers. If a customer wants to tip the dancers, there are small slots in the glass, down at stage level. It really gives one the impression of a stage-sized peep show. About a dozen small tables, each with three or four chairs, are in this area. Perv row is a counter that runs the length of the stage, again with chairs for the more dedicated pervs. Booth-style benches, with partitions, line the left wall of the dance area, as well as that side of the partition. More "private" dances can be done in an area just past the main bar. Again, there are three or four booth-style benches, with partitions naturally, and across from each one, a small dance area for the dancer, each with a pole and mirrors on the three walls.

I stopped at the bar for a Coke -- $4 for the glass. The bartender, an older woman, looked like she just couldn't care less; not even so much as a customary and forced "thank you." There were maybe six or eight dancers, half white, half African descent, the best of what I saw maybe a 5. Half the dancers were parked with regulars, either in one of booths or there at the bar, and four or five more customers just sat and drank.