sinclair's Review

I visited the Coyote Club around 00:30 on a Friday night. The strip club is in a small warehouse not far from Interstate 74. The club is surrounded by the three musketeers of no-tell motels: Super 8, Motel 6, and Knights Inn. The parking lot is gravel. The club changed ownership after the previous reviews in 2022. The Coyote Club, and before that Touch of Class, operated with a liquor license and was open most nights of the week. The current incarnation of Coyote Club does not have a liquor license and is only open from 22:00 to 05:00 on Friday and Saturday nights. The main stage is on the left side of the room, and it is shaped like a thick barbell. There are two pole positions on the ends. On the right side of the room is another stage that is a runway coming off of the old bar. It has a spinning pole. Dancers only got up on stage when they wanted to. There did not seem to be any definite stage rotation. Dancers stripped to topless, but a few would flash their vagine. Music was selected by the dancers off of a smartphone and played off of a set of mobile speakers from DJ Bankx.

There was a $10 cover charge. Anyone eighteen and over is allowed in. The club sells cans of soda. You can bring in whatever alcoholic beverages you like to drink: hard alcohol and/or beer. There was no inspection of the beverages you brought in or discrimination between glass and aluminum. I ran over to a nearby gas station to buy twenty-five ounce cans of Sincweiser. Indiana has a law where gas stations and convenience stores cannot sell refrigerated beer. I had to buy warm beer off the shelf and tried to get it chilled quickly with a bag of ice. Apparently, you can bring in your own food as well.

I counted eight dancers. Two were baby strippers, probably nineteen or twenty years old. I dumped singles all over these two, but one wanted to leave early around 02:00. Since they carpooled together, I went from two targets to none almost instantly. Further exploring the line-up, there were two obese dancers. One told me that this is the only club in the area that will hire plus size women. Interestingly, both of the fatties had their husbands on the premises, lounging around on their smartphones on the periphery. I guess these guys drove their wives to the club and stuck around to party themselves. Then there was Kisses, an African-American dancer. She said her name was Kisses because her nipples look like Hershey’s Kisses. She kept making a kissing sound on stage, which was kind of annoying. The other three dances were white dancers that had average bodies: dancers I would grade out in the 4 to 6 range. There were female customers and friends of the dancers present, so it was sometimes difficult to figure out who was a stripper and who wasn’t.