Mission Dolorous

In connection with my business travels, I have made it a mission to locate and explore waystations of reliable FS clubs strung across the middle Atlantic region. In some ways, I analogize to the missions Junipero Serra and the Spaniards established along El Camino Real in Old California, except without that "subjugation of indigenous peoples" part.

At this point in my explorations, I had a gap between a couple of the Brazilian holes in the wall in the Paterson, NJ area and the more inviting dens of iniquity in Providence, so I had my work cut out for me. Sunset Strip came up on the radar based on searching the Strip Club List and reading the reviews, which are sparse and largely uncomplimentary, but also largely fair. Small, standalone building along a two lane highway close to Stewart Airport in Newburgh, NY. Only 3-4 cars in the lot when I pulled up around 9 pm on a Sunday.

Walked in, and there's a counter with a plexiglass shield where the door attendant collects $20 cover, which buys you a non-alcoholic beverage. They actually had a decent selection of NA beers (I know some would think using the word "decent" in the same sentence as "NA beers" to be oxymoronic). Don't know if you can bring your own alcohol, but also can't think of any reason why anybody would hang out longer than it takes to drink the complementary beverage anyway. Past the booth on the left there is s short bar affair, where you get your beverage. Small, low stage to the right surrounded by chairs, past that to the right is a raised area separate by a low wall, behind which I surmise was a pool table.

No other patrons in the place and, of course, no dancer on stage. Doorman/drink guy hollered for somebody to come out. The one dancer I met that evening poked her head through a doorway just past the little bar on the left (the dressing room, presumably) and said: "I'll be right out, hun". Past that doorway was a hallway leading to the private rooms. There appeared to be 3 or 4 of those.

I sat at one of the little chairs next to the stage, and set my Heineken 0.0 on the stage, which was surfaced with linoleum. My dancer came out and walked up on stage. Blonde, probably late 20s, on the heavy side, but she had a nice face and friendly smile and demeanor. GND after life had thrown her a few curves. I picture Bridget Fonda when she was about 30% into her slide from how she looked in Jackie Brown to how she looks today (Google that, if you don't know what I'm talking about). She kneeled down next to where I was sitting, and, after introductions, she asked what I was looking to do. I just said I was looking for some fun, or something similarly vague, and she gave me a knowing smile and said VIP was $125 to the house and we would work out a tip for her.