Part 42: Kansas City

I woke up late in the morning and checked out of my hotel. I then walked south down Main Street to the Westin Crown Center. Inside the Westin, I picked up a rental car from Hertz. I proceeded to explore Kansas City by car. For lunch, I ate at a place called the Pressed Penny Tavern, which was literally three blocks east of the Kansas state line. The reuben sandwich I ate was not very good.

I backtracked to the WWI Memorial and Museum and spent the day learning about the history of World War I. I wondered why a World War I memorial and museum would be in Kansas City of all places. The only reason I could find was that civic leaders in Kansas City were willing to cover the costs.

Next, I drove to Shawnee, Kansas and checked into the Holiday Inn Express. I showered and got dinner at Taco Bell. Then I drove south down Interstate 35 to Emporia, Kansas. Emporia is a city I had driven through many times in 2020 for work, but I had never gotten the chance to explore it. Upon getting into town around 8:00pm, I had two options on my mind: Bourbon Cowboy and Double D's Cabaret. Bourbon Cowboy is a country bar downtown with dancing. Double D's Cabaret is a gentlemen's club on the west side of town. I decided to check out the latter.

When I arrived at the strip club, I had beaten all of the dancers. I chatted with the staff and enjoyed a few Budweisers and Jager Bombs. Myself and another patron played hick hop on the TouchTunes jukebox. By 10:30pm, the dancers started a rotation on stage. It seems this club was anything goes. I was sliding dollars into g-strings and smacking asses at the stage. There were only five dancers working. The only one I was really hot for was Secret. She was mixed race with a fit body and natural C cup breasts. Unfortunately, she got locked down with a regular the whole night, so I was not able to get lap dances from her.

I left around midnight buzzed and hungry. I picked up a pizza from Domino's and ate it on the one hundred mile drive back to Shawnee. I was tired and struggled to stay awake over the next hour and a half back to my hotel.

I didn't get much sleep that night, as I had to be at Kansas City's Union Station by 6:30am to catch the
train back to Mendota. I figured I would just sleep on the train ride back east.

The WWI Memorial and Museum in Kansas City.

A trench scene inside the WWI Museum.

Part 41: Kansas City

I left work and headed to Mendota, Illinois to catch the Amtrak train coming through later in the afternoon. I had credit on my Amtrak account that I needed to use. I parked my rig at the train station and boarded Southwest Chief for a weekend in Kansas City. The train ride went smooth until it fell behind schedule on the approach to Kansas City. We arrived almost an hour late. I navigated through the impressive Union Station in Kansas City and found my way to a nearby stop for the KC Streetcar. I rode the streetcar to the Power And Light District and got off at the Hampton Inn where I would be staying for the night.

I checked in and took a quick shower. I then wandered the streets looking for nightlife. It was below freezing, and downtown was very dead for midnight on a Friday. I wandered past Bazooka's Showgirls and Temptations, but I wasn't in the mood for peelers. I headed north over Interstate 70 to the Power & Light District, which I had heard good things about over the years. It also seemed to be pretty dead. After getting a couple miles of walking in, I retreated back to the Hampton Inn and passed out on the bed in short order.

The view from the Mendota Amtrak station.

The KC Streetcar stop just outside of Union Station. The WWI Memorial is in the right background.

Part 40: Terre Haute

After a late night, I woke up hungry. I went over to Papa John's for lunch to redeem a coupon I had for a free Papadia Calzone. From there I decided to work for Roadie delivering packages for a couple hours to offset my gasoline costs. I ended up in Urbana, Illinois in the afternoon. I finished my day delivering groceries from the Walmart to a graduate student from the University of Illinois. Since I had lived in Champaign for four years about a decade ago, I decided to spend a couple hours driving around and to see what had changed. Eventually it got dark, so I decided to start heading back to Terre Haute.

I drove south down US 45 to Tolono and stopped at Smoke & Shine for dinner. The restaurant was packed due to an Illini football earlier in the afternoon, but I was able to find a spot at the bar. I had six smoked brisket tacos, two Budweisers, and a couple of their moonshine shots.

I continued down US 45 to Tuscola. Tuscola used to be known for having the Tanger Outlet Shops. I even had a cousin who would drive out to this outlet mall with her friends for a day or two of shopping. As of November 2023, the outlet shops were almost completely vacant. There were maybe only six units occupied. The other ninety percent of the retail spaces were empty. The pandemic and online shopping had taken its toll on Tuscola, a town where people used to get off the interstate to shop.

I next hit a liquor store in town with very reasonable prices. I bought a twelve pack of Bud Light and some bottles of alcohol. I then stopped at a gas station for a bag of ice. My plan was to go to a private BYOB strip club in the soybean fields west of Tuscola called The Hideout. I arrived at The Hideout at 9:30pm, rang the doorbell, paid a cover charge, and dragged my Igloo cooler inside.

There were seven dancers working. I found two of the seven, Chanel and Starfire, to my liking. Chanel was what I call Sinclair prototype. She was a Hoosier in her early twenties with bleach blonde hair and blue eyes. She had an athletic body and C cup breasts. I did two twenty minute VIP rooms with Chanel for a total of $200. I was on cloud nine.

The stage was empty for most of the night. It seems there was no set stage rotation. One customer came in and got irritated all of the dancers were either on the smoking patio or in the dressing room. He berated the bartender and the bouncer that he shouldn't have to pay a $15 cover charge to look at an empty stage all night. He requested a refund, but I do not think they gave him his money back. He stormed out of the club pissed off.

I left The Hideout around 2am buzzed. I stopped at a gas station to buy a large fountain soda, Rice Krispie treats, and beef jerky to help me sober out and stay awake on the seventy-five minute drive back to the Candlewood Suites in Terre Haute. I was so tired, I had to occasionally slap myself to stay awake on the drive. I made it back to my room and was asleep within fifteen seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

Part 39: Terre Haute

I left work in Chicago and headed south down US 41 towards Terre Haute. Along the way I stopped for gasoline in a small town. About ten minutes after I started driving again, I got a text alert from my bank that someone was trying to use my credit card to buy groceries from a store in Sacramento, California. My credit card had been compromised somehow when I bought gasoline at the pump. My bank turned off my credit card and was going to mail me a new one. I was able to eat dinner at Burger King using a second credit card. Carrying a backup credit card is something I recommend for all travelers.

I arrived in downtown Terre Haute around 10pm. I checked into the Candlewood Suites. Next, I headed over to The Play Pen on the northeast part of town. The Play Pen is a newer strip club that only opened in January 2021. The club did not yet have a liquor license, although the staff thought in another couple of months they would. I drank a twenty-ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper and took in the stage show. Out of the five dancers I saw, only two were to my liking. Medusa was a gorgeous goth type with black hair, brown eyes, pale white skin, and a lot of tattoos. Unfortunately, she was locked down with a regular customer. Despite my tips at the stage, she did not take the hint that I wanted to see her in private. I ended up taking my second choice, Hera, back to the private area for a couple topless lap dances. She had long brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and big C cups that were fun to grab.

I drove back to the hotel to park my vehicle and then walked across the street to a bar called The Copper Bar for a Budweiser. For late on a Friday night, this bar was as dead as a doornail, which was surprising to me since Indiana State University was literally a couple blocks away. The few attractive females in attendance were with their boyfriends. There were no single women to game. I finished a second Budweiser and then walked back across the street to the Candlewood Suites. I started my day at 5am, and it was now 1am. I laid down on the bed in my clothes and fell asleep almost instantly.

Part 38: Carbondale

I woke up around 10am and walked a little over a mile to Enterprise Rent-A-Car. I got a Ford Fusion and drove south to do some exploring. I went to Metropolis, Illinois first. I stopped into Harrah's Casino to try to make a quick buck on the video poker. After about ten minutes, I figured the payout odds on the video poker machines were not as favorable as my beloved Casino Queen in East St. Louis. I left in search of lunch. I went to the Hardee's Red Burrito and had tacos. Afterwards, I went to the infamous Superman statue to take some photos. Metropolis is the fictional city where the Superman comics take place. Next, I went to Fort Massac State Park to get some exercise as I looked at the reconstruction of the over two hundred year old fort and the Ohio River in flood stage. It started raining, so I jumped back in the car and headed across the river into Kentucky to do more exploring.

I couldn't find much to do or see in Paducah as I drove around in the rain. I decided to go to Club Incognito for an afternoon rain delay, but found the strip club closed. According to Google it was supposed to be open at noon, but apparently the hours had changed. It would not be open until the evening. I hopped on US 60 and drove to Wickliffe. I crossed the Ohio River near its confluence with the Mississippi River and headed into the mostly abandoned town of Cairo, Illinois. Any land not protected by levees was flooded. The water was just a foot or so from swallowing the highway into Cairo. I drove around Cairo photographing the abandoned buildings and vacant main street. It was already late in the afternoon, so I headed north back to Carbondale. I took a shower and got ready for dinner.

I went to a restaurant called Italian Village. I ordered a large pizza and a Coca Cola. I watched some horse races on my smartphone while waiting for my food. It was a decent dinner.

Next, I headed north on US 51 toward De Soto. I stopped at Club Coyote. At 8:45pm, it was dead. The club is a pole barn with a bar and stage in the middle. I really did not find any of the dancers attractive. Every dancer showed baby damage. The best looking female in the club was the blonde, petite shot girl. At least Budweisers were only $3. I could get reentry with the wristband they gave me at the door, so I decided to head up the highway and possibly double back later to see if things got any better.

Next, drove north of De Soto to JB's Showplace. The long building was split into two separate sides. The right side was a regular sports bar for locals, and the left side was a small strip club. Budweisers were a very affordable $2.50. The dancer line-up was slightly better at JB's. A brown-eyed brunette named Candy was just my type. I wanted her. I tipped her generously at the stage. She jumped off the stage and gave me a short lap dance. I wanted to spend my entire wallet on her, but she spent all of her time off stage talking to a couple local farmers who she seemed to know, so that did not happen. A black dancer named Sky was a good second choice, but she hid out in the locker room when she was not on stage. The club did not obey the Smoke-Free Illinois law. Empty cans of Bud Light with the tabs ripped off were all along the bar as makeshift ashtrays. Eventually, the secondhand smoke and frustration from not being able to get lap dances had me departing.

I stopped back at Club Coyote while heading south. There was a college crowd around midnight and more of a party atmosphere, but the subpar dancers had me back in the rental car after slamming another Budweiser. I drove back to Carbondale buzzed. I needed something to sop up the alcohol in my stomach. I made a post-midnight visit to Jimmy John's for a Big John with extra onions. I then turned in for the night at Home2 Suites.

The Superman statue in Metropolis, Illinois.

Part 37: Carbondale

I got off work early, rushed to Union Station, and boarded the southbound Illini at 4pm. It took about five and a half hours to get to my destination at the end of the line: Carbondale, Illinois. Upon arrival, I deboarded and humped it about a block or so to Home2 Suites, an extended stay type of hotel owned by Hilton. The Amtrak worker that worked the cafe car narrowly beat me to the check-in desk.

I showered and then went out to explore downtown Carbondale. The plan was to hit a bar and check out the Saluki coeds. The downtown was pretty dead. I would later find out that winter break was still going on and classes would not restart until Monday. I found a bar called Traxx a few blocks from my hotel that had a decent college crowd. The young females stuck to mixed groups of friends mostly, so sarging was difficult. After a couple of Budweisers, I decided to call it a night. I had started work at 4am in the morning and now had been awake for over twenty hours!

On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at Jimmy John's and had a Big John with extra onions. I then retired to my room and quickly passed out.

Home2 Suites as seen from the Carbondale Amtrak station.

Part 36: Burlington

I woke up on Saturday intending to get a rental car at the local airport, but I got up too late. The local Enterprise location claimed to be out of cars. I ended up renting a Malibu from the local Chevrolet dealer. Next, I went to Taco Bell to try the new Rattlesnake Burrito. After that I hit up the Catfish Bend Casino. I ended up winning a little money on video poker and drank a few free sodas.

After stopping back at the Quality Inn to do some work on my laptop, I drove south down US 61 to Fort Madison. I got to the Ridgewood Lounge II at 7:00pm. It was not well illuminated and hard to spot from the road. When I entered, the bar was dead except for the bartender and two customers. The dancers wouldn’t show up until 9:00pm. For the next two hours, I played pool, played songs on the jukebox, and drank $3 cans of Budweiser. Eventually more people came to the Ridgewood. It seemed this was a hangout for the local young people. When the dancers did begin at 9:00pm, most of the crowd could care less. They were there to shoot pool on one of the five billiard tables and drink, not tip strippers. I saw the two African-American girls that were on my train the previous night stripping. I guessed right that they were strippers. None of the four dancers were overly appealing, so I got in my car and headed back up to Burlington about 10:00pm.

I got a couple burritos at Taco John’s and then went to a bar called the Paddle Wheel Lounge that my Lyft driver, Jeff, had recommended to me the previous night. He was right; the Paddle Wheel was the spot for college-aged women in Burlington. Unfortunately, there were about twice as many guys as girls. I slammed a Budweiser and headed over the Mississippi River to Illinois.

I returned to Charlie’s Angels at 11:00pm. I proceeded to tip the stage heavily and slam $3 cans of Budweiser. Barbie was the star of the show once again, but I did not get a chance to do private dances with her because she was in demand by everyone. A large group of college aged students came in. I’m not going to lie. I had more desire in my eyes for those coeds than many of the dancers. Around 2:00am, a large group of black guys came into the strip club along with an influx of people from the Burlington bars, which were now closing. One black guy was prancing around the club repeating, “I’ll fight. I’ll shoot,” over and over. Since there have been multiple shootings at Gulfport nightlife over the years, I took that as my cue to call it a night and drive back to the Quality Inn.

The Paddle Wheel Lounge.

On the hill is Snake Alley, the crookedest street in the world according to Ripley's Believe It, Or Not!

Part 35: Burlington

I headed down to Union Station in a Lyft after work. The California Zephyr was leaving Chicago at 2pm. I would have liked to have taken mass transit, but was running short on time. I got to Union Station just after 1pm. I hit the busy McDonald’s and went to the Great Hall to assemble in line. When 2pm rolled around, it turned out my train was delayed. I played on my smartphone and made phone calls until the train was finally ready about 5:40pm. I lined up to catch my train, and there were two young black women in line behind me. Both were wearing leggings and got on the same car as me. Since the train was already late, the Amtrak crew hustled everyone onboard, and the train lurched out of Chicago at 5:53pm.

I enjoyed the scenery heading west towards Iowa, but did not enjoy the smell. A Mennonite sat in the row behind me and reeked of body odor. I do not think Mennonites use deodorant. We finally got to Burlington a little after 9pm. Interestingly, the two black girls got off at the same stop. They definitely gave off a stripper vibe. I left the Amtrak station and walked across town to the Quality Inn on US 61 on the icy sidewalks. It was a three mile walk that took about an hour.

I checked in and got my room on the first floor at the end of the hallway. I used Choice Privilege points for a free two night stay. I showered, then ordered a Lyft to pick me up at the hotel. About 11:15pm, a local named Jeff in an Audi A6 picked me up. I could not believe a guy would be using such a nice car for ridesharing. I told him to take me to Charlie’s Angels on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River. Charlie’s Angels was the last remaining strip club in Gulfport, Illinois. At one point, this little river town had five strip clubs. The Mississippi River flooding in 2008 played a big role in thinning the herd.

Charlie’s Angels was a decent club if you lower your expectations being that it is in a rural area. There was no cover charge and cans of Budweiser were $3. Stage tipping yielded dancers hopping over the rail and giving a lap dance right on the floor. This was good value. I had my eyes on Barbie, but she was in high demand as she was clearly the cream of the crop here. The clientele started getting more ghetto approaching 2:00am as the bars closed in Iowa and everyone congregated over on the Illinois side at Charlie’s Angels. The club stays open until 6:00am.

About 2:00am I called a taxi and had him take me to the Perkins in Iowa. I was hungry and had not eaten in over twelve hours. I had the fish and chips. It was not worth the money paid, but Perkins might have been the only twenty-four hour restaurant open in Burlington. At least there was a girl’s softball team at the next table to stare at. About 3:00am I jogged down an abandoned Highway 61 back to the Quality Inn.

The California Zephyr.

The train station in Burlington, Iowa.

Part 34: East St. Louis

I woke up Saturday morning well-rested. I went to the buffet in the casino for a free early lunch. Afterwards, I went back to the video poker machines, thinking I could keep winning more money. I had done well the previous night and in February after all. My luck ran out, and I ended up losing most of what I had profited the previous night. I next decided to get some exercise by walking around the property. I walked out to the campground on the far end. There were only a couple motorhomes parked out there in mid-April. I came back through the truck parking lot and back to my hotel room.

I did not want to eat at the Market Street Buffet for a third straight meal, so I got washed up and headed across the Mississippi River to Soulard for dinner. I went to The Biergarten at the Budweiser brewery. I enjoyed some fresh Budweiser from the tap and ate a smoked pork sandwich. I went over to the gift shop to buy more Budweiser pilsner glasses for my bar set-up back home, but they had stopped manufacturing the particular style I was looking for, which included red tinted glass at the base and red writing on the side, in just the past two months. I walked around Soulard for awhile and then went back to my hotel.

In the evening, I decided to go to Centreville to see how the strip club scene had changed. I had not clubbed in Centreville in five years. I first went to the newly opened Club Onyx. It occupied a building that housed a series of strip clubs: Centerfolds Cabaret, Pyramid of Pleasure, and most recently the short-lived Hollywood Hunt Club. I went in at 10:30pm, walking through a metal detector. The cover charge was $10 and a Budweiser was only $3, cheap for a strip club. The club was not yet busy. All of the dancers and staff were African-American, and 96% of the clientele was as well. The waitresses were very accomodating. A slim black dancer from Chicago, Amillion, came to my table. I bought her a shot from the shot girl for $6 and we talked a little. She started twerking on my crotch for about two minutes at my table fully clothed. I gave her $15 as a tip, but she started berating me and said I needed to tip her more. I didn't even ask her to dance for me in the first place. She was just too full of herself. When I tipped other dancers at the stage, they seemed to be genuinely grateful. The club finally started to get a crowd around midnight. I do not think I would return to Club Onyx as it was not my cup of tea, but it was still interesting to check out.

I went across the street to PT’s about 12:30am. The club was packed and looked just as I remembered it. The cover charge was $10 and a Budweiser was $6.25. I was out $16.25 before I even threw a dollar on the stage. The private dance prices are outrageous here, so most guys just watched the stage show. What make the PT’s in Centreville unique is that it caters to swingers. There is an elevated, curtained off area of the club that only couples are allowed in. About a third of the club’s square footage is dedicated to the swingers. From the shadows cast behind the curtains, I could make out women giving men blowjobs in plain sight of all of the other swingers.

After an hour and a half, I decided I was going to get a late night snack and then go to bed. I drove to the Jack In The Box in Collinsville, which I knew was open twenty-four hours. As I drove into the drive through, the voice on the other end said they were closed. In reality, I saw two employees sitting in a booth talking in a dark restaurant. They were being lazy, and I made a note to call the franchise owner and report they were turning away customers. I did not know of any other late night places to eat other than Waffle House, so I drove back to Casino Queen and went to Deli & Chips, the snack bar inside the Casino that stays open all night. I got a corned beef sandwich and a Dr. Pepper, then retired to my room for the night.

The Gateway Arch and downtown St. Louis behind Casino Queen.

Part 33: East St. Louis

I got a flyer in my mailbox from Casino Queen in East St. Louis offering me two free nights in their hotel, $50 in dining money, and free casino credits. I had not been to Casino Queen since February when I was in St. Louis for Mardi Gras weekend and ended up cycling thousands of dollars through the video poker machines that weekend. I called the hotel and asked if they would let me redeem the free hotel nights on a Friday and Saturday night. Surprisingly they gave me free hotel over a weekend when the rates typically go up. The Cardinals were not in town over the weekend, so that probably helped.

I left work around noon and drove south down I-55. I made it almost the whole way before needing to fill up with gas. At the gas station I picked up a tall can of Stag. I made it to the casino’s hotel and checked in. The hotel was nice, but maybe a little bit less than what I had envisioned in my mind. Since I was done driving for the day, I cracked the can of Stag and guzzled it while walking around the parking lot. I finished the last sips as I walked into the casino.

The first thing I did was redeem some of my dining credit for a free dinner buffet. After eating I went to the video poker machines to make some money. After a couple hours of playing and sucking down free Dr. Peppers, I was ahead over $260 when I decided to take a break and go back to the hotel. I thought about washing up and going across the river to some bars or hitting a few strip clubs on the Illinois side. I laid down on the bed for a nap since I had been awake since 4am. I did not wake up until the next morning.

My tallboy of Stag Beer.

Part 32: Davenport

On Saturday, I got up and checked out of the hotel. I went down to the John Deere Pavilion, the world’s largest agricultural museum, in Moline around 10am. The building was packed with children that must’ve been part of some summer camp group. After about an hour checking out the tractors, I walked a block to get lunch at Bierstube, a well-known German restaurant in the Quad Cities.

Bierstube was just opening. I opted to sit out on the patio to enjoy the sunny day. My waitress was a friendly young lady named Serene who I’d guess was around 21. She had a number of tattoos and and amazing figure hidden by a t-shirt and jean shorts. She was easily the best looking woman I have seen in the last month. I ordered an appetizer, a reuben, and a Dr. Pepper. The portion sizes were generous, so I probably could have just settled for the sandwich.

Next I went over to Jumer’s to play some video poker. When I lived in the area, the casino was on a boat on the Mississippi River and I had never actually visited it. The casino is now on land a couple miles from its original location. I had a subpar gambling session at Jumer’s, so i decided to go to the casino that I spent the most time at and won the at: Rhythm City Casino. On the way, I stopped by Modern Woodmen Park to pick up a River Bandits baseball cap. The stadium does not have a fan shop that can be accessed from the outside, so the manager of the franchise escorted me into the empty baseball stadium and opened up the fan shop on the concourse just so I could purchase a hat. What a nice gesture.

Next I walked over to the Davenport Skybridge. This is a glass walkway that used to be a pedestrian bridge from downtown Davenport to the Rhythm City Casino. The casino has been moved off of the Mississippi River and is now on land near the intersection of I-80 and I-74. The skybridge now serves as an observation deck for the Quad Cities. I followed the bridge into downtown Davenport and ended up in a bar called The Starting Line. I drank a few Budweisers and escaped the heat.

Around 5pm, I went to Tuxedos Show Club after stopping at a liquor store to pick up a tallboy of Bud Light. The club was pretty dead and had a funky smell like there was mold growing on the carpeting. All four dancers were pretty nasty. The best was a 4 on a 10-point scale. I guzzled my beer and headed out. The next stop was the Comfort Inn & Suites on the north end of town. The hotel was right next door to Daisy Dooks and across the street from a Flying J truckstop. In fact, my hotel room window looked out right across the parking lot at the strip club. I’d definitely be walking over later.

I showered, relaxed, and then headed for dinner around 8pm. I went to the Iowa 80 Kitchen in Walcott, Iowa. Iowa 80 is the largest truckstop in the world with 900 parking spots for big rigs. I had spent a significant amount of time at the truck stop in my younger days and had become friends with the Peel family, the family that runs the Iowa 80 Kitchen. I ordered the pork cutlet, but it was not as good as I had remembered. The fries were as subpar as they always had been, and it was my fault for ordering them instead of a better side. I walked around the chrome shop after dinner to pick out a few needed accessories and then departed back to my hotel in Davenport.

After parking, I walked across the street to the Flying J and bought a six-pack of Budweiser cans, then proceeded to the entrance of Daisy Dooks. I was denied entry at the door because I was wearing a muscle shirt on a hot August night. I walked back to the hotel to put a button-up shirt on. When I finally got inside Daisy Dooks, it was packed. There were five bachelor parties present. The main focus for most of the clientele seemed to be tipping the stage, since private dances are overpriced and not that private. Dancers seemed to make $150 to $200 in singles every stage rotation. The talent was better looking than the two other strip clubs I had visited this weekend. At one point a fight broke out between a bachelor party and a group of farmers. The bouncers separated them and threw out the farmers so the bachelor party could stay and continue spending money. About five minutes later, the two groups were fighting again out in the parking lot. Every bouncer ran out of the club to stop the fight before someone got seriously hurt on the property. The excitement did not end there. Two strippers started yelling at each other and got into a catfight. I got up out of my chair to egg them on. Two other strippers and a bouncer were able to finally separate them. I consumed my entire six-pack and left tired just before the 4am closing time.

Daisy Dooks from my hotel window.

Part 31: Rock Island

I decided to take a weekend trip to a metropolitan area where I lived and worked in what seems like another lifetime: the Quad Cities. I left work around noon. On my way into Moline, I passed by Quad City Downs. The former horse track was completely abandoned. I had only been inside once when it was still operating as an OTB. The last time a horse race occurred was September 6, 1993. I arrived at the Holiday Inn in downtown Rock Island around 4pm. I checked in, took a shower, and decided to take a stroll around downtown.

TUSCL said there was a strip club The Body Shop just a few blocks from my hotel. I showed up at the address to find a closed nightclub called JR’s. A quick internet search on my smartphone told me the strip club had closed down in August of 2016 and then changed format to a gay nightclub. It seems the gay nightclub went under and now all that remains is yet another empty storefront in downtown Rock Island. At one time, Rock Island had three strip clubs: The Body Shop, Jolly Roger Lounge, and The Tiger’s Den.

I stopped at a restaurant and bar called Gunchie’s for dinner. I ordered a Budweiser and a large pizza with onions. The bartender was shocked when I consumed the entire pizza. I got a second Budweiser to wash it all down. Next, I walked back to my hotel via The District, an area of bars and restaurants on 2nd Street. Nothing piqued my interest, so I kept walking.

Next, I decided to go to Southern Comfort Lounge on the other side of the Mississippi River by the Davenport Airport. Since the strip club is BYOB, I stopped at the BP gas station just a block from the establishment to buy two tallboys of Budweiser. At 8pm, there were only three dancers, but by 9pm, there were about fifteen working. Dancers were pretty average looking, but got completely nude on stage. The few customers inside seemed to be content just drinking and throwing an occasional tip. I enjoyed sipping my beers for an hour and a half, then decided to call it an early night. I had been up since four in the morning.

The Centennial Bridge between Rock Island, Illinois and Davenport, Iowa.

Part 30: East St. Louis

I woke up late in the morning. I had to get a package in the mail, so I first went to the post office in Fairview Heights. After that, I went to Walmart to pick up some toiletries. After completing my errands, I returned to Casino Queen for lunch at Sevens. I had the pan-seared tilapia with a side of boiled carrots. After completing my meal, I gambled for an hour and then returned to my hotel to take a nap.

After a shower and dressing up, I headed to Prime Steakhouse for a big dinner. I had the grilled Pacific salmon. The portion size was huge. It seemed like they put half of a salmon on the plate. After filling up, I played slots for about an hour and a half and sucked down some complimentary Cokes. I bought a five dollar chip to give to a coworker that collects casino chips.

Next, I drove to Missouri to go to Rhonda’s Place on Page Avenue, the only strip club in St. Louis proper, arriving at 9:45pm. Rhonda’s Place turned out to be a dive bar with strippers on the end of a strip mall. There were beer bottles discarded all around the parking lot. No one was checking IDs at the door. There were signs on the wall telling patrons should notify management if anyone tries to sell them drugs. The clientele was mostly African-American and Mexican. This was a strange place. Dancers performed on a small stage in the corner, but were not allowed to strip down any further than a bikini. So much for Missouri being nicknamed the Show Me State. The five dancers working were not making much money with contact and lap dances being illegal in St. Louis County. The worst part about Rhonda’s was the secondhand smoke. I left after an hour, struggling to breathe and reeking of cigarette smoke.

Next, I drove to Lumiere Place in downtown St. Louis, parking in the attached parking garage. There must have been some kind of event going on at the casino and hotel resort because there were women decked out in evening dresses everywhere on the property. I bought a five dollar chip for my coworker at the cage and then jumped on the slot machines briefly. I started to win money, but once again my throat was getting irritated. I looked up toward the ceiling and could seek an abundance of smoke hovering between me and the lights. In Missouri, it is still legal to smoke indoors in casinos and bars. I departed, not being at the casino for more than a half hour. I just could not take it anymore.

I drove across the Mississippi River back into Illinois, exiting the Interstate onto South Illinois 3, so I could go to Pop’s. Coming down the ramp into Sauget, cars were backed up. There was something going on up ahead, possibly an accident. Around this time, I started feeling pain in my stomach and was getting nauseous. After sitting and slowly moving forward for thirty minutes, I eventually came to a checkpoint set up by the Illinois State Police. They asked to see my drivers license and proof of auto insurance. Then they peered into my vehicle with their flashlights. Presumably, they were also looking for drunk drivers. It was after midnight on a Saturday night after all. I saw a few cars on the side of the road that had been impounded by the state police and were being prepared to be towed. By the time, I made it past the checkpoint, I felt something slowly rising up my esophagus. I decided to skip Pop’s and call it a night, heading back to the Holiday Inn. With every mile, I was feeling more and more nauseous. Finally, I pulled into the parking lot, shifted to park, and immediately ran ten feet to the grass hedge in front of my vehicle. I fell to the ground and violently vomited the salmon I had eaten earlier in the night. It was at this point that I would learn I had a serious health problem that would require emergency surgery left than two weeks later. In retrospect, I was grateful that I did throw up while going through the state police roadblock; surely they would have thought I was driving drunk, even though I had not consumed alcohol in over three months.

Part 29: East St. Louis

I got off work in Champaign, Illinois mid-afternoon on a Friday. Since I was within three hours of St. Louis, I decided to head down for a weekend getaway. I stopped on the way to get gas and a tuna sandwich at Subway. I arrived at the Holiday Inn in Fairview Heights around 6pm and got washed up.

I started the evening at Casino Queen in East St. Louis. This is probably my favorite casino in the Midwest. I lost around $160 over the course of a couple hours, then headed out to Miss Kitty’s, which I had not been to since December 2012. I asked the bartender for a 7UP or a ginger ale. What I received was a club soda. The strip club was very dead and all but one of the dancers exhibited damage from pregnancy. The one dancer who was not “stretched” would have been the only one I would have banged. I decided to leave after an hour and headed for a door with an exit sign. The only problem was that I had just walked into the VIP room. The bouncer shouted and chased me down. The exit is the same door one enters the building.

I decided to jump over to Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club a quarter to 1am. I had always avoided this strip club because Deja Vu/Hustler Club chain is the McDonald’s of adult entertainment, but I decided to give this strip club a go being that it is one of the only ones I have yet to step foot in the St. Louis metro area. I was impressed how the club was decorated so exquisitely for Christmas. I sat in the back next to a Christmas tree and enjoyed a few Cokes. I took in the sights for most of the night, scoring the line-up and occasionally walking up to the stage to throw a few dollar bills. I ended up getting four couch dances from a pale brunette from Kentucky named Skylar. I would’ve loved to put a carrot in this filly’s mouth, but the Hustler Club is one of the few “clean” clubs in Washington Park. Around 3am, I was feeling burnt out and headed back to the Holiday Inn for the night.

Part 28: Indianapolis

I woke up around noon Saturday and checked my phone. There were no text messages from Bareback. Maybe he was still asleep. Maybe the stripper killed him in his sleep. I got showered and did some work on the computer. An hour later, Bareback texted me that he was outside in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. I went downstairs to meet him and asked him if he banged the stripper he took back to the hotel. It turns out he did not score. He claimed he made out with her and felt her up, but she would not go for sex. He felt she played him for a free night’s hotel stay. She lived in the Chicago suburbs and was working at Dancers Show Club for the afternoon.

We got in my rig, and I drove to the Chick-fil-A in Avon, which was packed on a Saturday afternoon. I had Chick-fil-A cards for free grilled nuggets, so I treated my friend to lunch. We hit an ATM on the way back to the Crowne Plaza. Bareback Jack wanted to go relax in the hot tub for an hour and take a nap. I did some work on my websites and took a shower.

Around 17:00, we reconvened and went over to Fountain Square to barhop. We had a beer at Imbibe, and then went to B’s Po Boy for dinner and more beer.

After dinner, Bareback wanted to see more of the Circle City’s flesh factories, so we made a stroll over to Classy Chassy. I had not been there since November 2012 when I had a very disappointing visit. Between 2012 and 2016, not much had changed. The dancer line-up on Saturday’s night shift did not impress us. I got a couple lackluster dances from an inked redhead named Charlie. The slow and sensual lap dance style is just not my cup of tea. Bareback Jack bumped into a trucker while smoking outside who was staying at the Quality Inn across the road by the truck stop. He explained to Bareback that he was trying to get stripper to come to his hotel room, but was not having any luck. Bored, we took off and headed over to Silk.

I had not been to Silk since September 2012. The club was slightly better than I had remembered, only because there were two 9’s working. Bareback was able to flag down one of them for lap dances. She was tame and told my friend that she could get him drugs if he wanted any, because her boyfriend was a drug dealer. Being horny, Bareback took a significantly less beautiful dancer back for dances. She gave him all the contact that he wanted and offered even more in the VIP room. He declined because she was not good-lucking enough to drop several hundred on.

Around midnight, we agreed that Dancers Show Club was the best option to close out our weekend in Indianapolis. It was midnight, and we needed to get more airplane bottles en route to Dancers. We were worried all the liquor stores were already closed. We were finally able to find a liquor store in the Mars Hill neighborhood that was still open. It also happened to have over one hundred varieties of airplane bottles. From there, we trucked over to Dancers.

We started out by ordering a hydrant that had one hundred ounces of Budweiser. That only lasted about ninety minutes. We kept taking turns going to the washroom to down miniature bottles of alcohol. We only brought in enough nips to avoid suspicion. As the night wore on, each of us would have to make trips out to my vehicle to reload our pockets. The Czech dancer Bareback had slept in the same bed with last night was working. Bareback Jack learned that the Czech was not 26 like she told had him, but she was actually 36 years old. Not only that, but Bareback felt scammed by her coming to his hotel room and not letting him penetrate her holes. Bareback Jack made a point to pretend like she did not exist.

I saw an athletic brunette on stage at one point, so I went up to tip her. Some short dork was already sitting at the stage with a Jackson in hand, but she seemed to ignore him, giving me attention for almost her entire stage set. When she gets off stage, she immediately asks me if I want to do lap dances with her. “Absolutely,” I said. The lap dances were great and this dancer, whom I will leave unnamed to protect the innocent, started French kissing me. I was in heaven. In my euphoric state, I gave her a mini bottle of peach schnapps from my jacket, which she brazenly chugged in view of all the cameras in the lap dance area. She said she would not get in trouble for it. On the fourth song, another dancer, Olivia, walked into our booth and started whispering something in my private dancer’s ear. From what I can overhear, the dancer’s regular was upset she ignored him at the stage, and he sent Olivia to tell my dancer to come to his booth immediately. I am getting pissed because I have never had another dancer interrupt a lap dance before. After the fourth song, my dancer tells me she needs to go to her regular customer. I told her it was okay and that she needed to keep her regular customers. She said she does not like the short guy and would prefer to keep giving me more private dances. She took a whole song to get back dressed and we French kissed some more. She gave me her real name and told me to add her as a friend on Facebook. She did not seem like a cutthroat stripper and had not been doing it very long.

I return to my table and sit with Bareback Jack, watching the dancer in the booth of the dorky regular. He appeared to be whining about being slighted, then stormed out of the club with his Polo shirt-wearing entourage, making a scene like the stripper made a fool out of him in front of his friends. The dancer disappeared to the dressing room, and likely went home after that as it was 3am and I did not see her on the floor for the rest of the night. In retrospect, I should have followed the regular out of the club and beat him and his frat boy crew all over the icy parking lot.

Part 27: Indianapolis

I left work early Friday afternoon and headed down to Indianapolis. The previous weekend, Bareback Jack was not able to drive in from Cincinnati, so we agreed to meet in Indy the following weekend. I bought two hotel rooms for two nights at my go to hotel in Indianapolis, the Crowne Plaza, for $235 total. I arrived around 5pm, but Bareback was still en route. He finally arrived about 7:30pm.

Bareback said he had never eaten at a Tilted Kilt before, so we agreed to go downtown for dinner. The waitresses were smoking hot, and the food was decent enough too. We had a few beers, then decided to do some barhopping downtown. I suggested we head to the Slippery Noodle a few blocks down Meridian. The Noodle is the oldest continuously operating bar in the state of Indiana. It has been operating for 166 years! When we got there, they were charging a $10 cover because there was a blues show going on. We didn’t want to pay a cover for just a beer or two, so we turned around and headed back up Meridian to Tiki Bob’s. It looked to be a good spot because there were some sexy bartenders inside. The bouncers at the door told me that I could not wear my ball cap inside and that I would have to put it in my car. I was not going to bow down to their dress code, so we kept walking. Eventually, we wound up at Yard House, a bar with over one hundred beers on tap. Nothing overly exciting was going on at the Yard House other than beer snobs glorifying craft beer, so we decided to retreat to Dancers Show Club out by the airport to enjoy some peelers.

Recalling my experience the prior weekend where I was quoted an exorbitant price for a Jager Bomb, I pulled into the Valero just down the street from the strip club and suggested to Bareback that we grab some airplane bottles before going to the female flesh emporium. I purchased miniature bottles of Jagermeister, Kraken, Malibu, and Southern Comfort. Bareback purchased cigarettes, mini bottles, and a 375 mL flask of Fireball.

We snuck the party favors into the club in our jackets. Since the club was rigged with cameras everywhere, the only place we could drink them was in the one place that was not being recorded: the washroom. Bareback and I would take turns making trips to the washroom to slam the miniature bottles while the other would hold down the table. We’d discard the nips in the urinals. By the end of the night, the urinals were filled with miniature liquor bottles.

We both got a few lap dances and tipped the stage. Bareback Jack hit it off with a Czech dancer. He was trying to get her to meet him for OTC. She agreed and said she would meet him after closing time at the Steak ‘n Shake. We closed the club at 4am and headed to the Steak ‘n Shake. The stripper showed up and joined us at a booth. She had told Bareback that she was 26, but I had known that was a lie in the dark club and an even bigger lie in the well-lit restaurant. I would not have even tipped this chick a buck on stage, but Bareback had his beer goggles on. We ordered food. Bareback and the Czech stripper talked about all kind of stupid stuff for the next hour. I actually fell asleep in my side of the booth and was woken up when the two of them were finally ready to head to the hotel. Bareback rode with me, and the stripper followed us in her Honda Fit back to the Crowne Plaza. I gave Bareback Jack a wink on the elevator. He went with the stripper up to his third floor room, while I headed to my fourth floor room to get a much needed night of sleep.

Part 26: Indianapolis

I woke up around noon, hungover and hungry. I had a stack of Chick-fil-A cards in my rig offering free grilled nuggets, so I decided to save some cash and drive down Washington Street to the Chick-fil-A in Avon. I had never been to a Chick-fil-A before and don’t even really like chicken, but the nuggets I had were very good. The quality of the food definitely separates Chick-fil-A from other fast food chains like McDonald’s and Subway.

On my way back east down Washington, I stopped back into Dancers Show Club to sample the day shift. There were seven dancers working and maybe only one or two other customers at 2pm in the afternoon. Most of the dancers had visible signs of childbirth, which is a big turnoff for me. I was still a little hungry after my free lunch, so I ordered a Philly cheese steak and drank a beer. I got a couple good lap dances from the one dancer that was not wrecked by having a kid, and then decided to go back to the Crowne Plaza.

After checking my emails and showering, I drove over to Fountain Square to meet Don. We had arranged to meet at a restaurant I frequent in Indianapolis called B’s Po Boy. They serve New Orleans-style sandwiches and food. Don and I discussed plans for our overseas trip in three weeks. I showed him some items he would need to buy before the trip, and we completed some hotel and transportation reservations. When we were through, Don invited me to go to a minor league hockey game in Indianapolis. I did not even know Indy had a hockey team. I declined because I thought watching a hockey game would have been boring.

I decided to hit the Pendleton Pike to check out Harem House. There was only one dancer working, Ariel. She was in her thirties and looked rough. She told me she just had a baby a month ago and used to drive a truck before becoming a stripper. There also appeared to be a black stripper in street clothes, but she was drunk and mumbling at the bar. I decided to leave the dead club and head over to its sister club down the street to Babes.

I decided to stop at Thornton’s on the way to use their ATM. There were aggressive panhandlers harassing every customer who exited the mini mart. I waited until another customer left, a distraction for the beggars, and ran like hell back to my vehicle. After I got in, they started rushing toward me, hoping I’d give them something as I was backing out of my parking space.

Babes Showgirls was more lively than its sister club, and there were a couple diamonds in the rough worth pursuing. I got ten private dances from a 23 year old dancer named Ana. She is a petite brunette with glasses. The grinding was good, and at one point she kicked it into high gear, rapidly banging her clit into my dick for five or six minutes straight. She shook for awhile and claimed to have had an orgasm. If it was an act, she had me fooled. Around midnight she went outside for a smoke and upon returning went over to an old guy who must be her regular. For the next forty minutes, she sat at the bar talking to the geriatric. Whatever. I slipped out and headed back to the Crowne Plaza.

I thought about washing up and heading back to Dancers Show Club for an encore, but I ended up turning on the television and passing out on the bed.

Lucas Oil Stadium, just south of downtown Indianapolis.

Part 25: Indianapolis

I left work late on a Friday evening and drove southeast to Indianapolis. I was planning to meet a friend from Ohio, Don, who would be joining me on a trip to South America in February. There were some things that needed to be discussed in person before we met up in Buenos Aires in a few weeks. We would meet up for dinner on Saturday. I finally made it to the Crowne Plaza around 20:00. I checked in and then showered.

I decided to head over to Dancers Show Club around 1am. The club was packed, and I had to sit at the bar to start. Eventually, I moved up to the stage to tip Stella. Eventually two buzzed guys that could not have been older than 21 or 22 sat next to me at the stage. They were at the club with two beautiful young ladies about the same age, presumably their girlfriends. The guys started acting goofy and saying funny things to the dancers. They were rambling nonsensical things to me. There were obviously drunk. One of the girls they were with was an insanely beautiful Hoosier girl. She came over to me and started apologizing for her boyfriend’s drunken behavior in her southern Indiana accent. She was more beautiful than any of the dancers, and her lady friend was pretty good looking too. She would have been quite a treat to take back to the hotel, but I respected the fact that she was in a relationship.

The rest of the night at Dancers was pretty ho-hum, a below average night at DSC. Few of the dancers impressed me, and a lot of their attention went to their regular customers. I closed the club down at 4am and went back to the Crowne Plaza very tired.

Soldiers and Sailors Monument, downtown Indianapolis.

Part 24: East Brunswick

I woke up and walked across the street to the Wawa where I ordered a beef cheesesteak hoagie and a large Dr. Pepper. After eating in the parking lot, I went back to the hotel to get some work done on the computer and watched some college football on the television.

Around four o’clock, I jumped into the traffic jam on NJ 18, snaking into New Brunswick. I parked my rental in a parking garage downtown and found the shuttle bus to High Point Solutions Stadium for the game between the Rutgers Scarlet Knights and the Michigan State Spartans. I did not buy a ticket ahead of time, and was worried I would not get into the stadium since a scalper scene was nonexistent. Luckily, I found a ticket booth and bought a ticket at face value two hours before kickoff.

I sat in the front row of the upper deck. Being early October, the weather even at night was still manageable in short sleeves. People on this part of the East Coast have a reputation for being assholes, s what surprised me was how friendly the local fans were. The Spartans won 31-24 in a close game to remain undefeated.

After the game, I could not find the shuttle that had brought me to the stadium, so I ended up walking about two miles in the dark back to where I parked my car in New Brunswick. I wanted to hit some college bars to see what the Rutgers coeds looked like, but I was so tired and had to be at the airport in Newark in a few hours. I usually ignore my better judgment, but for once I obeyed it. When I got back to the hotel, I walked across the street to the Wawa I had eaten lunch at to get a hot sandwich and a large Dr. Pepper, heavy on the ice. There were a lot of fans from the game in there with the same idea. After eating, I passed out on my bed for a few hours, before waking up and driving north to Newark Liberty International Airport. I had been in New Jersey less than thirty-six hours.

High Point Solutions Stadium, Rutgers University

Part 23: East Brunswick

I had been working like crazy the past few months, so I decided to make a weekend trip to New Jersey to enjoy some drinking, womanizing, and football.

I got out of work early, around noon, and headed to Midway Airport. The Southwest Airlines flight was supposed to depart around 14:30, but rainy weather delayed the flight. Eventually, we boarded the plane and sat over an hour before taking off due to bad storms in New Jersey. I was supposed to be in Newark by 17:30, but arrived three hours late due to the delays. It took me another hour to drive my Chevrolet Malibu rental down the New Jersey Turnpike to my hotel, the Comfort Suites.

After a late dinner at a Burger King, a hamburger on a black bun (special for Halloween), I decided to go looking for some trouble. If I had gotten into town sooner, I would have tried to have found a boardwalk. Since it was late, I was going to settle for a bar. Driving up NJ 35, I saw the large neon lights of Club XXXV, so I decided to check it out.

I was charged $5 to park in a gravel parking lot. When I was extensively searched for weapons at the entrance by a dude that looked like Danny Trejo, I knew this club was going to be ghetto. After a $25 cover due to the club being BYOB, I made it into the club. My admission included a free drink, so I gave the drink ticket to a waitress and told her to get me a Coke. She comes back and tries to charge me $5.

I tell her, “I gave you my drink ticket just a minute ago.” I knew she was trying to play dumb and hustle me.

She gives me a blank stare. I give her a single just so she will go away.

So I had spent $31, and there is absolutely nowhere to sit. The club was packed mostly with young thugs trying to act like they are in a hip hop video. The dancers are mostly Hispanic, black, and Eastern European. The few odd white dancers appear to be Italians from Staten Island.

After standing awkwardly for ten minutes, I chat with a dancer named Coco. She has big fake tits and an ass to match. She is the type of dancer Papi Chulo from TUSCL would lust over. She tried to tell me lap dances cost $30 when they were actually $20, so I corrected her. Since the lap dance area was just a claustrophobic narrow corridor, I opted for the $125 VIP room by the second song. Once the curtain is closed, Coco pulls my jeans down and worships my pork sword. After briefly lap dancing, she puts a jimmy on and takes me in her mouth. She knows what she is doing, and moments later I release what I can no longer hold back.

I take off and head north towards Perth Amboy, but pull off at The Den, just before reaching the bridge over the Raritan. I almost walked in without paying the cover because the door attendant was no paying attention. The club does not serve alcohol, so I ordered a Coke. The big butt Boricua bartender didn’t charge me for my drink, nor the numerous times I asked for a refill. I am not sure if this is standard or she was cutting me a break. She was charging other guys $5 for Costco bottled water. I watched the show at The Den for an hour, but was not overly impressed. The few dancers that I might have gotten a dance from were on lockdown with regulars.

I was insanely tired by this point, having been awake about twenty-one hours. I decided to call it a night and head back to my hotel.

Dancer from Club XXXV