Pheasant Moments

Bridgeport, CT. Saturday night. It was pretty early like around 7. Area is in, *Elvis voice* In the ghettoooo, in the ghettooo. A big housing project in the distance, I parked down the crescent ave next to one of the islands and walked over. There's a dude with a food truck out there. Walk in, magnometer. Two black dude security guys at the front. Put all your shit in the bucket, clear mag, pat down. Walk over to the dude at the register, $10 cover. Layout, one big long bar, PACKED to the gills. Even at this time. Stage in the middle and then beyond that is the dance room area. Dead ahead across the bar from the entrance is the bathrooms. As I came out of the bathroom one of the black dude secuirty guys hollored at me "Hey no smoking in the building" I said I don't smoke. He must've had the wrong guy. Crowd was mostly hispanic with some black.

Dancers. Mostly hispanic looked like, I did see a couple black girls in there. More veteran side, I would say a split between 20's, 30's and 40's age wise. Not all though almost all enhanced big booty, big boob types. I'll be honest I didn't think it was a great lineup. A lot of no's but all available. This is one of those kind of joints. A lot of hustle here, Hey papi. Maybe over 50 girls.

A few girls came up to me, grinding their ass on me. I was about to split, because I just wasn't seeing what I wanted and was honestly paranoid about my car getting broken into but then some chick named Frida came up to me. Puerto Rican and Dominican. Decent face but really great body. Hip Hop video type body. Big ass, big tits, not fat, good thickness. For the prices here, I said fuck it why not. I knew about the $80 here, It's $10 to go back. Up top you wait on a line with a bunch of other pairs and he collects the $10 from you. Then finally you get a room when it opens up. It's definitely private in there, door and everything but it's tight. Just a bench. in there, it's a like closet. Anyway not gonna be a GFE experience here, more like you get a whole lot whatever but just hurry the fuck up, factory style. The guy that collects the money just yells down the hallway your dancers name when time is up.