sinclair's Review

I went to Elite Gentlemen's Club on a Wednesday night at about 23:00. The strip club is on the second floor of a building in downtown Charleston. You enter through the door on the left of the storefront and then walk up twenty-four steps to a locked door that the bouncer will open for you after you ring a doorbell. There was a $10 cover charge. The bouncer writes down something off your driver's license and then gives you a quick pat down for weapons. There is a dress code that prohibits sweatpants and hoodies. However, I was in sweatpants mode, and they still let me in. There is a bar on the left side of the room. The stage is at the rear with a spinning pole. Facing back towards the street you came in from is a private dance room with four padded dance booths. Beyond that are the VIP rooms. Sincweisers were $7. A Coca-Cola was $4. A bottle of Fiji water was $6. The strip club runs a dancer drink hustle. If you buy a dancer a drink, it is $20. The dancer gets a cut of the proceeds.

There were only four dancers working on a Wednesday night. This wouldn’t have been a problem if more than one of them was sexy, which was not the case. All of the dancers were Caucasian, and maybe only one dancer was in her twenties. Erin was bangable, but the other three dancers were not even worth tipping a nickel. One redeeming point about Elite is that it is a nude club, and all four dancers actually got nude on stage. It is rare nowadays to see nude clubs where every dancer lives up to the nude billing and drops the thong. I tipped Erin on her g-string, and she freaked out a bit. Apparently, you cannot touch the dancers on stage.

–Sinclair Dancer Sheet–