Thankfully, my being thrown out by...

Thankfully, my being thrown out by an ignorant asshole bouncer is a long-distant memory; I don’t see him around, nor have I seen that bitch of a waitress who set me up. This has returned to being the friendliest roadhouse stripclub you’ll find in the Twin Cities that can serve you alcohol.

The turnover remains very high, though. Janessa has gone back to Choice, and I don’t see think I’ve seen Destiny the past few times I’ve been there. The last remaining veteran is Claudia, and she’s all I need. I don’t even spend much past $100 anymore, mostly because I still don’t have a job. I’ve stopped planting myself on the tip rail for the whole rotation, just getting my massage from Claudia and catching up on old times instead. I wouldn’t do this if I had more money, but what I’m doing now is A-OK.

Prices for drinks remain reasonable, though they’ve crept up the past year. I’ve noticed that the DJ, a woman, has been around for a long time now, and she says the same damn thing over and over. Oh well. At least she updates the roster board behind her. Gentlemen, if you have a favorite, just go up to the DJ booth and look at the names on the wall. There’s a list of girls in order. The nameplate of the girl that the DJ shifts to the right is the new dancer on the lower stage. When a girl dances in the Diamond Lounge VIP, she puts her nameplate under that column, indicating she’s off the rotation. That board shows you who’s where and who’s up. It’s reliable and easy to read, and therefore it’s one of the best ideas I’ve seen in a stripclub, even if the info isn’t for customers.