Top
World Best Strip Clubs in America, UK
11. Platinum lace, UK
10. Hot Lap Dance, New York
9. Night Flight, Moscow
8. Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club, New York
7. 4 Play Gentleman’s Club, Los Angeles
6. Spearmint Rhino, Las Vegas
5. Le Crazy Horse, Paris
4. Seventh Heaven, Tokyo
3. Mons Venus, Tampa, Florida
2. Wanda’s, Montreal
1. K5 Relax, Praque, Czech Republic
First
Time to Visit Strip Clubs How does it Feel ?
A few years back, I decided to take advantage of an opportunity to cross something off my bucket list. I was at a bar, drinking with a lesbian friend of mine, and a guy friend of hers came and met up with us.
A few drinks in, the topic of strippers came up, and he found out that neither I nor my lesbian friend, let's call her Sam, had ever been to one. Seeing as we weren't too far from one, they wanted to go posthaste. I, drinking because I wanted a relatively quiet evening, demurred.
At least I did, until I had several more drinks. By that time, the world had taken the artificially bright, watery state associated with being a little (way) past tipsy, and off to the strip club we went.
Once we got there, I was astounded to find out it had a cover fee. I did not mind paying, it was just something I did not expect; I was told that it was normal in Chicago, and never having been to one before, it was believable.
We entered into a dimly lit area with comfortable padded chairs around tables, and a brightly lit stage. There were gleaming poles scattered throughout the room, and loud party music playing. We found a table, and after a minute or so, a scantily clad woman came by to take our drink order.
"What beers are available?" I asked, only to find out that in Chicago, gentlemen's clubs have the option of being totally nude or serving alcohol. We had apparently opted in for the totally nude option; and so, my drink was a $6 bottle of water.
Our male friend decided that Sam and I should get the full experience, and so he paid for lap dances, and a private dance for Sam. After the private dance, Sam came back with the goofiest smile that more than made up for the entry fee.
On the other hand, I found my first lap dance to be... strange. A young, nubile Asian woman performed; I was stunned that it was to actually happen on my actual lap; she got on, and began grinding. Needless to say, I was speechless for a few moments, before I noticed her platform shoes were lighting up with her every movement, and I found myself amazed at such technology and (let's call it) fashion.
It was, I think, at that moment the dancer realized that she did not need to make any real effort; what came out of my mouth was, "Oh my god! Your shoes are *amazing*," said in probably my gayest voice. (I was also wearing rather form-fitting jeans, so it is possible she also noticed the lack of a typical response.)
So she ended it early, with much laughter all around, and we talked for a few minutes until I realized I had begun to sober up in a loud environment that smelled of perfume and disinfectant, with flashing lights all around--and so I ran out the door, got to the street, and began to vomit everything I'd drunk that evening.
If I do go to another such club, it will be one that serves alcohol.
A few drinks in, the topic of strippers came up, and he found out that neither I nor my lesbian friend, let's call her Sam, had ever been to one. Seeing as we weren't too far from one, they wanted to go posthaste. I, drinking because I wanted a relatively quiet evening, demurred.
At least I did, until I had several more drinks. By that time, the world had taken the artificially bright, watery state associated with being a little (way) past tipsy, and off to the strip club we went.
Once we got there, I was astounded to find out it had a cover fee. I did not mind paying, it was just something I did not expect; I was told that it was normal in Chicago, and never having been to one before, it was believable.
We entered into a dimly lit area with comfortable padded chairs around tables, and a brightly lit stage. There were gleaming poles scattered throughout the room, and loud party music playing. We found a table, and after a minute or so, a scantily clad woman came by to take our drink order.
"What beers are available?" I asked, only to find out that in Chicago, gentlemen's clubs have the option of being totally nude or serving alcohol. We had apparently opted in for the totally nude option; and so, my drink was a $6 bottle of water.
Our male friend decided that Sam and I should get the full experience, and so he paid for lap dances, and a private dance for Sam. After the private dance, Sam came back with the goofiest smile that more than made up for the entry fee.
On the other hand, I found my first lap dance to be... strange. A young, nubile Asian woman performed; I was stunned that it was to actually happen on my actual lap; she got on, and began grinding. Needless to say, I was speechless for a few moments, before I noticed her platform shoes were lighting up with her every movement, and I found myself amazed at such technology and (let's call it) fashion.
It was, I think, at that moment the dancer realized that she did not need to make any real effort; what came out of my mouth was, "Oh my god! Your shoes are *amazing*," said in probably my gayest voice. (I was also wearing rather form-fitting jeans, so it is possible she also noticed the lack of a typical response.)
So she ended it early, with much laughter all around, and we talked for a few minutes until I realized I had begun to sober up in a loud environment that smelled of perfume and disinfectant, with flashing lights all around--and so I ran out the door, got to the street, and began to vomit everything I'd drunk that evening.
If I do go to another such club, it will be one that serves alcohol.