Weird, but good.

This place seems like something out of a David Lynch movie. Calling the decor tacky would be an understatement. The stage backdrop is cheap & shiny red plastic fringe that rustles from the fan breeze. Giant “artistic” nude paintings flank the stage. Fake paper torch lamps and cheap chandeliers are as close to class or branding as you’ll get here. The rest of the room looks like your grandfather’s basement from the 70’s.

The music was all over the place. Of course there was the usual sleaze rock like Buckcherry and Nickelback, but there was also a metalcore cover of Britney Spears, Sixpence None the Richer, shitty rap, and a song that the stripper announced was “The Gayest Country Song Ever”. There’s no DJ, so the dancers use their phones to connect to the Bluetooth speakers. The music stops between sets until a robotic “Connection Successful” breaks the silence.

Dancers began filing in at 5:30, which there was no cover at that time (Cover maxes out at $5, so it’s easily affordable). The first couple of dancers were on the thicker side and in their 30’s. Then an early 20’s chunker took the stage. She was a better dancer, but a little too big for me, and also too hungry for tips and Vegas bombs.