Low Expectations Perhaps Met

It was about 6 on a Saturday evening. I was playing hooky after running some errands. I went in with low expectation and I guess they were met. Crossing the bridge to get there, I noticed a lot of space in the Purple Orchid parking lot. I was looking for some variety and kept on driving. My mistake. Oasis is on the auto mile, just past the fruit distribution center (I kid you not). Out front was not fully parked up. Masked up. Went in. Covid procedures were absent when I came in. You're supposed to show your vax card in Philly bars now. Didn't happen. Inside is an enormous room. The bar is a large rectangle with the main stage in the middle and a side stage outside (not in sure). There were 4 old style low-res projection TVs around the room -- in case you wanted to watch the Raiders v. Bengals rather than tits. There were a perhaps 4 guys there and at least ten dancers. This is usually a very good recipe for fun, but not tonight. There were three or so older, blonde strippers; two younger African American strippers and 4 or so younger, multi-tatted white stripers with hair in various colors. With the exception of one of the older, blondes -- she had more wrinkles than my mom -- all of the dancers were fit, with smooth skin. Mostly girls next door. As soon as I sat and before I could order a beer, I was joined by a petite (total spinner) African American girl who said she was Amira. She was wearing a mask, not because of covid, she said but because she'd taken a spill and hit her teeth. Enough detail in her story to make it credible. I asked her if she wanted a drink. She did. Always the right move to get your entertainer a beverage. Just as the drink was served, she was called to the stage. Abruptly another dancer -- Michelle -- swooped down on me. She was curvy with a delicious ass and large hooters. We chatted. She said she was Dominican. She made made a persuasive argument with her hands about why a dance with her would be especially fun. It wasn't. I said let's do a dance. She was "no, three." What the hell. The couch room is a serious of cubicles with 4 or 5 foot partitions and some seriously worn pleather couches. She took me round to the back row. Her grind was serviceable but it was just a grind. On closer inspection, her tits were man made and not well done. There was evidence of weight loss/stretch marks around her midriff. Maybe more could be had were I more aggressive, but this was just not doing it for me. Junior just didn't approve of her. Oh, and she was wearing perfume, so driving home with the car with the car windows cracked to let off the scent was a lot of fun in 20 degree weather. Did the 3 dances. She was pushy for a tip, even after being declined. I'd have given her a ten to shut her up but I only had 20s. She got one. Meh. Went back to my seat. Amira was sitting there chatting with another dancer. We eventually discussed Michelle's utter lack of tact in swooping in on a customer that Amira had been working on. I'd burned my budget. And the wife was calling. Asked Amira when she was around and she said she didn't keep a consistent schedule. We hadn't connected enough to swap numbers without it seeming creepy.

In short, the scenery was nice. The dances could be nice with the right dancer. The place does have the occasional ROB. Life in the big city.