I enter the Gold Club late...

I enter the Gold Club late one mid-week afternoon last week. After paying $4 for cover and a tip to the beauty at the door, I enter the dimly lit, smoky main room to see a bar with a bored barmaid talking to a dancer who seemed agitated with the lack of paying customers in the club. I move past a mini-stage and pole to an empty table where the badgering for beverages began from a waitress who appeared to have seen better days. The Gold Club is fairly neat, but obviously aged. It seems to have the same worn feel as the Bunny Ranch I've seen on Cathouse on HBO. The VIP rooms were on the right side and dark and private despite being wide open. The stage takes up a quarter of the of the cozy building, and the music seemed to be a blend of rock, southern rock, and country rock.

There were five or six girls sitting idly with a handful of customers I figure were regulars. All of the girls seemed to be a slightly different variant of the same trashly trailer park type girls that were either too skinny or too chubby, and all with the same brash personality. Only one or two asked for a dance, and I was thankful I wasn't badgered like I was for the drinks. The one girl to catch my eye was a slender black dancer named Dylan. She was a innocent looking good girl so I moved closer to the stage to see her perform. She wasn't great, but had an attractiveness that convinced me to go one-on-one with her. I wanted a preview so I bought a single lap dance. She worked hard and was sensual in her flow. Unfortunately, the music didn't work for her style, and I never got my man in my pants pumped about the dance. I figure if I had more time and invested in Dylan's show, I would have gotten a standing ovation. I'll be back to see if Dylan can make it work for me.