Long story short - girls are...

Long story short - girls are average to good, a lot of darkness, no table service to speak of, pretty good contact. Recommend for dayshift.

Long story long - next time you leave a strip club and say to yourself, "Well, that's two hours and two hundred bucks I'll never have back," trust me, to regain your perspective, go to Vegas. You may go to a club you've never been to and get air dances from snooty rip-off artists before getting thrown out on your ass by some touchy bouncer who accused you of taking out your dick when he only wanted to rough you up because you didn't tip him like he thought you should. But at least you got something in exchange for the experience - usually half-decent girls showing off their tits, and if not, a good story and possibly a review warning us brothers here on TUSCL. You get something for your bankroll from a club, always; compare that to seeing your hard-earned cash fritter away on a 7 at the craps table, or a bad beat playing Texas Hold-‘Em, or a bunch of kids pissing down their legs late in a game that busts your three-team parlay and ruins your entire mission on the first day - the first fucking day! - of March Madness. The only people surrounding you after your loss then are a bunch of frat guys in t-shirts and flip-flops, and they've got their sorority girlfriends to go back to the pool to and fuck.

I planned to go to the OG in triumph as a knight who slayed the sportsbook dragons and took them for the loot that I would in turn give to the hot, glittering damsels in exchange for some booby. Instead I had to escape my hotel on the Strip shaking my head - damn you, Old Dominion, I rue you for as long as you remain an institution of higher learning! - and wondering why the hell do I do this. It felt awful to spend money after losing so much money, but the afternoon session was winding down and I was feeling alone, scared and a bit vindictive.