The club is in an alley...

The club is in an alley west of the shopping center. (I actually went to Misty three times, and the third time, a Thursday, there were no close parking spots, so I left.) No bouncers, no pretension, just a black curtain and you're inside.

Once your eyes adjust to the dark, the thing that you'll notice is that nearly every one of the workers there, dancers and bartenders, are Vietnamese. Nothing inherently wrong with that, but I don't like Asian dancers because it reminds me of my family. Furthermore, from the quick glances of the girls in obvious stripper attire, there wasn't a 10 out of the five dancers this Tuesday night. Hell, there wasn't even a 6. But I heard about this place and was determined to get the whole experience, so to speak. And besides, the only stripper who did not look Asian was up on the rectangular stage; some guy looked like he was petting her kitty, with his loud buddies whooping and hollering behind him from a booth at the far wall.

Now it was my turn. The place was dead, so I was the only person taking a seat surrounding the stage. I laid down a George and she quickly starting putting her boobs on my face. I took a chance and starting feeling them. Felt good, and most important, no one made a peep. She then laid on her back and spread her legs open, and I too petted her kitty -- and a little more. Her name was Opal; from New Mexico and with Columbian heritage, she wasn't exactly pretty and she had a doughy but not fat body. Whenever I stuck my finger in her she cooed, and that got irritating the fourth or fifth time she did it. Still, it was great. I never have been able to get this much action from a dancer *out in the open*. No one cared! So after her four-song set was done (no DJ, the girls just pick four or five songs from a jukebox and dance till they're supposed to be done) I wanted to get a dance from her -- "in the back booths, behind the plants." She knew what I was talking about, wink, wink.