I needed a big rebound after the previous night being a big time bust. I had to pull the ace out of my sleeve. I hit up the Penthouse Club. This place is a 7UP factory. They have strict hiring requirements. Most dancers that try to work here don't even get their foot in the door. The difference between this place and other French Quarter clubs is night and day. There is a totally different clientele and an overabundance of dancers. Whereas at most clubs you will tip with singles, it is not uncommon to tip with five, ten, and twenty dollar bills at the Penthouse Club. You better be packing at least $500 to show your face inside. Upbidding is fierce between patrons, and dancers aren't even fazed by a C-note. I first took up a position at the rail to survey the goods. The quality was off the charts compared to the other clubs in the area: girls with insane polework, perky lolitas, silicone-pumped princesses. Fuck yeah! I first sampled a table dance from a blonde stunner but felt like she was holding back some. I turned my attention to a spray-tanned blonde that I had hit it off with at the stage. For a stripper, she had exceptional conversation skills. This was a big bonus to compliment her banging body. I took her up to the private rooms for the rest of the night. Call me a pathetic loser but it was like boyfriend-girlfriend chemistry. This chick was a perfect 10 and didn't even seem fixed on the money. We actually spent alot of time together outside of the private area too. I don't think I have ever fallen for a stripper as I did with this girl. I spent every dollar in my wallet and walked out at closing time broke.
Next, I decided to hit up the bar I am a regular at in New Orleans. My friend, the bartender, told me a hotass black girl came into the bar around 5am early in the morning and started acting strange. She went into the washroom and didn't come out. A half our later, the bartender went in there to check on her. She was in there naked vomiting with one leg up on the sink. Her panties were hanging on the soap dispenser. The bar called 911. It was clear this girl was beyond drunk. After getting a few more beers, I decided to head back to the Staybridge Suites. On the 100 block of Bourbon there was an SUV parked with a guy standing outside of it acting all strange. From what I could make out, some whore was blowing someone inside the vehicle, and the guy outside the SUV was the pimp keeping lookout for the cops. I kept walking and a Dodge Magnum with spinners pulled up next to me. I was solicited by some hooker riding shotgun. I just ignored it, and the pimp and his bitch finally drove away. It was a pretty crazy night.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Part 3: New Orleans
If I went two for two the first night out, then I definitely went 0 for 4 the second night. I hit four clubs and all turned out to be either busts or dives. The only good news was that I did not spend much money and gathered good reconnaissance for the website.
First went to Deja Vu at 8:30pm. This club used to be the shit back in the day. I even dated a girl that worked there. It turns out this place has taken a turn for the worse. Only four girls were working, some of whom were packing on the pounds. Only one of the four, a 6, you might consider, but even then you'd need to be buzzed. It is crazy when one of the female patrons is way sexier than any dancer the club offers. The interior redesign looked good, but renovation is meaningless if there aren't good-looking dancers. The manager had dreadlocks down to his knees. I wonder if his hair gets in the way when he needs to go to the restroom? I pounded a beer and bailed, regretting paying the cover to get in.
Next, I went to the Hustler Club 9:00pm. This is one of the sister clubs of my previous stop. It turned out to be even worse. There were no dancers there when I arrived. Ever sit in a strip club with music blaring and an empty stage? I sure did. Finally, the management forced the waitresses to dance on the stage to keep people from leaving. A half hour later two dancers showed up, but both were not to my liking, a 2 and a 5.5. One of the two was a Russian girl that I have seen working at this club for the past three years. They must have her on some type of indentured servant type of deal. I've never seen a girl work at the same club for that long. There was no cover, but a beer was $8, so that was like a cover charge for sitting in an empty club. The Hustler Club was a big disappointment.
The third stop was Stilletos. I had never seen this place open before (and has few ratings on TUSCL), so I took a gamble. It was a bad gamble. Stilletos is a dive. All of the women were 30+ and some possibly 40+. The club is pretty run down; the DJ is a redneck sitting at a table with a laptop. I was the only customer in the place. I didn't even finish the mandatory beer before I ran out the door. This is the type of club where strippers end up at when they are at the end of their careers. This place was scarier than any horror movie.
My fourth stop was another place with little intel, Sho Bar. I had a bad feeling about this one but decided to take one for the team and check it out. Sho Bar turned out to be a dive as well. It was a very small place with a small stage. Probably only forty people tops could fit in this hole in the wall. There was no way I was going to go unnoticed. A transvestite (or at least she looked masculine and talked manly) started begging me to take her to the VIP. I was scared to death. The rest of the line-up was just as bad. I would have paid these women to keep their clothes on. I was led to believe alot of these dancers were supporting drug habits.
First went to Deja Vu at 8:30pm. This club used to be the shit back in the day. I even dated a girl that worked there. It turns out this place has taken a turn for the worse. Only four girls were working, some of whom were packing on the pounds. Only one of the four, a 6, you might consider, but even then you'd need to be buzzed. It is crazy when one of the female patrons is way sexier than any dancer the club offers. The interior redesign looked good, but renovation is meaningless if there aren't good-looking dancers. The manager had dreadlocks down to his knees. I wonder if his hair gets in the way when he needs to go to the restroom? I pounded a beer and bailed, regretting paying the cover to get in.
Next, I went to the Hustler Club 9:00pm. This is one of the sister clubs of my previous stop. It turned out to be even worse. There were no dancers there when I arrived. Ever sit in a strip club with music blaring and an empty stage? I sure did. Finally, the management forced the waitresses to dance on the stage to keep people from leaving. A half hour later two dancers showed up, but both were not to my liking, a 2 and a 5.5. One of the two was a Russian girl that I have seen working at this club for the past three years. They must have her on some type of indentured servant type of deal. I've never seen a girl work at the same club for that long. There was no cover, but a beer was $8, so that was like a cover charge for sitting in an empty club. The Hustler Club was a big disappointment.
The third stop was Stilletos. I had never seen this place open before (and has few ratings on TUSCL), so I took a gamble. It was a bad gamble. Stilletos is a dive. All of the women were 30+ and some possibly 40+. The club is pretty run down; the DJ is a redneck sitting at a table with a laptop. I was the only customer in the place. I didn't even finish the mandatory beer before I ran out the door. This is the type of club where strippers end up at when they are at the end of their careers. This place was scarier than any horror movie.
My fourth stop was another place with little intel, Sho Bar. I had a bad feeling about this one but decided to take one for the team and check it out. Sho Bar turned out to be a dive as well. It was a very small place with a small stage. Probably only forty people tops could fit in this hole in the wall. There was no way I was going to go unnoticed. A transvestite (or at least she looked masculine and talked manly) started begging me to take her to the VIP. I was scared to death. The rest of the line-up was just as bad. I would have paid these women to keep their clothes on. I was led to believe alot of these dancers were supporting drug habits.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Part 2: New Orleans
After running a few errands, I got in a good evening of clubbing in. I started hitting up the Bourbon Street establishments at 8:00pm. Since I have been to almost every strip club in New Orleans, I targeted the couple I never went to as my objectives for this first night.
I first went to Babe's. I was skeptical going in due to the minimal Rue Bourbon crowd. The hawker at door told me he got kicked out of the Navy for fucking a stripper in Darwin, Australia. He promised me there were hot bitches inside. There were five girls working. All of them were fuckable. I got some dances from a brown-eyed, hot ass 25-26 year old. Fake tits, a body to die for. This was her first night at this club, which turned out good for me. She actually undercharged me for dances, $20 instead of $30, because she did not know the price structure. $20 for full contact, I have never had such a good deal in this tourist trap town. We took a break from the lapdances and she sat down with me. Then seconds later she got up to talk to some dud at the bar who shops at the Dollar Tree. This is the shit I don't understand about strippers. They are there to make money but spend their shift texting or sitting with customers that don't spend a nickel. I was the only guy buying lapdances in the club and had been given the cold shoulder. I bailed.
I went to Scores next. This club was fairly empty too. All dancers were in their lower twenties. I sat through one rotation to see my options. Once again, I was the only person spending money in this club. The difference here was that the girls were more eager to please than at my previous stop. Dances were $40 but almost worth it. For example, my hand was guided to pet one dancer's kittie during the dance and another bit my cock through my pants. There was one dancer that looked like she just graduated high school. You could tell she was still learning the ropes and was shy to take dollars in her g-string. I wondered what it would be like to take her back for a dance, but my spidey senses told me there would be too much air. Hundreds of dollars lighter, I left to have some beers at a quarter of the strip club price at a normal bar. My perception is that the number of dancers in town is low in the summer, but so is the number of tourists. The market is pretty well balanced for hurricane season.
The parties started to die about 2am or 2:30am, early if you ask me. By this time streetwalkers were descending upon Bourbon Street looking for a john. All were black and surprisingly young. Not my cup of tea.
I first went to Babe's. I was skeptical going in due to the minimal Rue Bourbon crowd. The hawker at door told me he got kicked out of the Navy for fucking a stripper in Darwin, Australia. He promised me there were hot bitches inside. There were five girls working. All of them were fuckable. I got some dances from a brown-eyed, hot ass 25-26 year old. Fake tits, a body to die for. This was her first night at this club, which turned out good for me. She actually undercharged me for dances, $20 instead of $30, because she did not know the price structure. $20 for full contact, I have never had such a good deal in this tourist trap town. We took a break from the lapdances and she sat down with me. Then seconds later she got up to talk to some dud at the bar who shops at the Dollar Tree. This is the shit I don't understand about strippers. They are there to make money but spend their shift texting or sitting with customers that don't spend a nickel. I was the only guy buying lapdances in the club and had been given the cold shoulder. I bailed.
I went to Scores next. This club was fairly empty too. All dancers were in their lower twenties. I sat through one rotation to see my options. Once again, I was the only person spending money in this club. The difference here was that the girls were more eager to please than at my previous stop. Dances were $40 but almost worth it. For example, my hand was guided to pet one dancer's kittie during the dance and another bit my cock through my pants. There was one dancer that looked like she just graduated high school. You could tell she was still learning the ropes and was shy to take dollars in her g-string. I wondered what it would be like to take her back for a dance, but my spidey senses told me there would be too much air. Hundreds of dollars lighter, I left to have some beers at a quarter of the strip club price at a normal bar. My perception is that the number of dancers in town is low in the summer, but so is the number of tourists. The market is pretty well balanced for hurricane season.
The parties started to die about 2am or 2:30am, early if you ask me. By this time streetwalkers were descending upon Bourbon Street looking for a john. All were black and surprisingly young. Not my cup of tea.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Part 1: New Orleans
I haven't had a vacation since February. My job kept cancelling my vacation plans all summer. Finally, I was able to get a few days off, so I decided to head to New Orleans for five nights. I plan on eating some good Creole cuisine, getting wasted, exploring the city, and of course hitting up some strip clubs.
Everything has gone like clockwork so far. I took Southwest Airlines from Midway to Louis Armstrong, and they are the best airline operating in the continental 48 states, mark it down. I got checked into the Staybridge Suites downtown, and it is more than I expected. I proceeded to go out to one of my regular hangouts in the French Quarter and got fuckin' wasted before it was even 5:00pm! It is too easy to get drunk here. There are tons of bars, you can imbibe in the streets, and every single store sells booze. I ended up stumbling back to my room and called it a night. Tomorrow I will try to drink in moderation and do some titty bar reconnaissance. More blogs to come.
Everything has gone like clockwork so far. I took Southwest Airlines from Midway to Louis Armstrong, and they are the best airline operating in the continental 48 states, mark it down. I got checked into the Staybridge Suites downtown, and it is more than I expected. I proceeded to go out to one of my regular hangouts in the French Quarter and got fuckin' wasted before it was even 5:00pm! It is too easy to get drunk here. There are tons of bars, you can imbibe in the streets, and every single store sells booze. I ended up stumbling back to my room and called it a night. Tomorrow I will try to drink in moderation and do some titty bar reconnaissance. More blogs to come.
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