From: salinas@hypervil.com (L. C. Salinas) Subject: ASSC: One long night, too many singles... (AFTSD) Date: Tue, 02 Dec 1997 06:04:23 GMT In the long drudge of computer consulting, I do occasionally have the opportunity to take a ride thru Carlstadt, NJ, home of a few decent nudie clubs. So I drive down to the bank, grab some cash and turn around, planning to head to Stiletto's. However, there's a cop car in the driveway, so I decide to keep driving. Even though it looked like the valets were just rapping with the cop, I didn't need the hassle if I was wrong. I like Stiletto's. I'm not out that way often; I'm closer to their sister bikini club, Lace, but if I'm in the area, I try to stop by. But not tonight. So I go the quarter mile down the road to the Gallery. I had never been to the Gallery before, so if nothing else I would be able to see if I would ever go again. I park the car (no valets here) and enter. Some very tall fella greets me at the door with a too-firm handshake and he asks me if I am "meeting anyone tonight" I don't know if this is to make me feel like more of a PL that I'm going in alone and *not* meeting anyone, but I answer that I am not. He then tells me I have to speak to the "girl behind the counter." I talk to her, she tells me there is a mandatory "10 dollar buffet fee" ("But I don't want to eat..." "You might as well, you're paying for it...") and a two drink minimum... $18 please. I don't know why but this seemed high to me. Sure, Stiletto's is $10 cover and a $5 Diet Coke but because it is two separate transactions, it doesn't seem so much... I dunno. I get my drink tickets and head to the bar. The joint is pretty dead, and I am not really all that into it. The place is a HUGE restaurant with a very small stage in relation to the club. They bill themselves as the "Gallery Restaurant" and I guess they are more restaurant than nude club... but I digress. I sat at the bar, sipped my diet cokes and watched the hockey game. The girls were OK looking, nothing great, nothing horrid... just typical. I was really looking forward to seeing Bethany at Stiletto. I saw her once from far away, caught her stage show once (she has a big jagged tattoo down her back -- do those shapes have any significance?), but she decided to eat her Chinese food instead of ask around for dances, so by the time I had to go she was still in the back with her Moo Goo Gai Pan and I had to settle for someone else... *sniff* But, anyway, back to the Gallery. it stunk, IMHO, so I left. I only saw 3 girls, and people were smoking, and I just kicked the habit, so I just took off and headed towards home... ... and Lace. Lace is a bikini bar, but it's a good bikini bar. The laps are of decent mileage if you get the right gal... there's no touching on your part, but there is a fair amount of rock polishing available if you play your cards right... Lace was PACKED. I had to park in the lot next door. Found a seat away from the tip rail; bought a Diet Coke... I now had about 50 singles in my pocket. However, with all the girls, there wasn't any sort of pressure to get a dance... so much so I was beginning to feel a bit invisible. My current regular dancer Elyse was nowhere to be found, and when I did catch a glimpse of her, it was just that, a glimpse... oh well, next time. Elyse had a friend, N---, whom I had gotten dances from every now and then, and just as I was about to go back to the wife and kid, she approached, and off to the VIP room we went (the VIP room is no admission, slightly more private room... the champagne room costs; and I doubt it is worth it...) Laps are $10 apiece, which is nice. I got 4 from N--- and left. She did some digital rock polishing which was quite unexpected. Nothing for any extended period of time, but she grabbed Mr. Willy and gave him a little shake just to let him know she was there... But then, a cardinal rule of dancing was broken with me. I can't really relate to dancers past the fantasy part -- I know about the reality, but would prefer not to think about the fact that they have families, etc... so it was a bit of a stunner/bummer when N--- started talking about this yam casserole her Mom makes for Thanksgiving. To me, we're in the TMI zone -- Too Much Information. I don't want to know about your Mom, N---, I want you to keep rubbing your ass against me... So after that, it was getting late and I went home. I still had about 40 bucks of singles in my pockets, so I had to bitch about how the guy at the gas station gave me all singles in change, and the lady at the Pathmark gave me singles because she was out of fives, etc... I think I am now down to about six singles... but there's always the vending machine... I hope this didn't suck. Coach -- L.C. "Coach" Salinas salinas@hypervil.com When I die I want to go sleeping, peacefully, like my grandfather, not screaming like the passenger in his car.