The facilities are swanky to the...

The facilities are swanky to the hilt - neon dance poles, wait staff in tuxedos, plush furnishings...and about 2 other guys sitting at the empty juice bar. The doorman made sure I understood that they only served non-alcoholic beverages, and after checking my driver's license with a laugh, welcomed me in to have a good time. A friend of mine who formerly danced at another club (and texted me to come on over) was nowhere to be seen, but an attractive Latina with shapely ta-ta's quickly scooped me up in her arms and planted the sexiest cheek kiss I think I've ever experienced - I almost thought I'd get a cheek hickie from it! Eventually, "Blondie" (my nickname for my friend) made her way into the room, and Miss Latina quickly disengaged her arms (and legs) when she realized my ulterior motives. Turns out, this was Blondie's first evening shift at Champagne, as she normally worked during the day, so two cherries were ripe for the popping in a manner of speaking. We made our way to the beautifully accoutered lapdance room, complete with beaded curtain separators and the same doorman now acting as bouncer. At the other club where she danced (no longer now, apparently) my previous session with Blondie was Happiness; I soon realized what a pale warmup that had been in comparison to the time we started spending together here. Un-frakking-believable, with enough intergalactic maneuvers to make a Cylon blush! 2 dances melted into 3, then 4...and then, the bouncer rounded the corner of leather couches in his new role as Dark Lord of the Sith. I could swear I heard the chilling sound of a wheezing respirator in the background as he hissed, "You are finished now. [Blondie], I want to have a word with you." I tipped Blondie on top of the outrageous lapdance tarriff, and as I made my way out of the club after washing my hands, I noticed that she was being summoned to the "principal's office" for a stern reprimanding by the Madam of the premises (I presume she was the owner). Blondie texted me afterwards, saying that she had been sent home immediately.

Let's see: no booze, no boobs (Champagne being a bikini bar), no-BODY - why, yes, I think I can most certainly see how killing off a customer base will certainly recoup the millions of dollars invested in neon dance poles, waitstaff in tuxes, fine leather upholstery in an empty lapdance room, and enough wood paneling to strip a rain forest. Makes perfect economic sense to me.