I'm so over SF clubs

After some extreme boredom at Condor and a quick (oh? this? no) at Centerfolds, I decided to give the old Hustler one more try. I've had some weird and fun nights there in the past, although it's been a long time since the top. So I got a drink and watched the stage show from the bar. And waited. And waited.

After 10 minutes or so of awkward emptiness, I think one girl did end up dancing on the stage, while the rest of the dancers hung out and chatted cliquishly with each other. I was bored, bored, bored. Finally I made eye contact with a young dancer with a big flouncy body who came over and sat down with me. Without even so much as a how do you do, she launched into the sales pitch of VIP, this, that, the other. Maybe I was just moody but it all felt so amateur-hour; nothing even *pretending* at humanity, just straight to give-me-your-money. I couldn't do it, I just stood up in the middle and left. Maybe it's just symptomatic of a world that forgot how to relate to each other as human beings. Maybe the mask just got lazy and fell off the face. I don't know, I don't care, I'm over it.