A dead Saturday night

Plenty of parking around the Desire building, with the entrance on the front. It felt like entering a short tunnel that ended with two security guys. One took my ID for examination while the other gave me a very thorough frisk. He may have been in training because he wore a spiffy outfit and about every kind of device on his belt.

A couple of dancers sat at the end of the bar that was immediately inside the door. I ordered a whiskey, $6 as I recall and was approached by another dancer, tall and pretty in a bikini top of two postage stamp size pieces of cloth. She asked if I was looking for conversation and I declined, saying I would watch the dancers for awhile.

The main room is long with two stages, with seating along the walls and chairs at the rail. The low ceiling and everything painted black was like a teenager’s dream of basement living. At the back are the toilets and private dance booths. To the left of the toilets is a door to the outside area which is large and covered.