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.