Now just to get it out of the way if after Reading this Post You honestly want the Address to this Surreally Shitty Strip Club (as it like to call itself) all You have to do is send Us an Email Requesting it. Ask and You shall Receive.
Back in My early 20’s I was Living in some shitty Section 8 Housing Apartment Complex with a Buddy of Mine I had met while in Rehab. He went by the nickname Kujo. He spelt Cujo with a K to be original. Here’s a fucking idea if You want to be original don’t pick the name of a Legendary Horror Character asshole.
Neither of Us had jobs and We spent Our days killing time fucking around aimlessly. We were basically broke most of the fucking time since We were self-Unemployed, and if We got hold of a couple Extra Bucks We pissed it away Parting.
It was one of those rare times when We were rather flush from having worked a couple of Day Jobs for some Day Labor Company, and had racked up some spending cash. We were sitting around shooting the shit trying to come up with some dumb shit to do. Finally Kujo volunteered We could go to The Strip Club. I had no fucking idea where the fuck there could be a Strip Club Our are area I sure as fuck didn’t know of one. So out of a mix of intense Boredom and Curiosity I said sure why the fuck not.
We got in My car and headed out to whatever Strip Club Kujo had been babbling about. We drove for about 15 minutes into the City Suburbs when all of a sudden Kujo told Me to park when I saw a spot on the Street. I though what the fuck are We stopping Here for? The I assumed Kujo was picking up some coke or some other Party Favor. I Pulled up to the curb and parked outside of what appeared to be a Block of Retail Stores that had closed hours ago.
I parked the car, got out, locked it, and proceeded to follow Kujo who had already started walking off down the Sidewalk. I kept waiting for Him to say some shit like “We’re going to see My Guy so be cool” or “I’m going to see mY Guy to pick up some Colombian Marching Powder so wait here a minute”, BUT Kujo walked instead of in total silence. Then out of no where Kujo stopped, took the last couple of drags off His Cigaret, and opened some fucking random nondescript Door. It honestly looked like a Door that would lead up to a Residence where someone was Living.
When I stepped through the exterior Door I found Myself walking directly behind Kujo since the Hallway We were walking down was so fucking narrow it felt like I had boarded a fucking Submarine instead of entering a fucking Building. The walls were painted this disgusting very light Yellow Pastel so for all I knew We had entered a fucking Elementary School or some shit.
Once We reached the End of this bizarre Hallway there was a Cashier’s Window the type you’d find at an Older Movie Theater. Behind the Glass sat this Older hefty Gentlemen where a light blue button down shirt that was 2 sizes too small for His Stature. He also was suffering from a bad case of Male Pattern Baldness. The most notable thing about the sunken eyed pale skinned Cashier was He seemed to be coated in a thin film of sweat from Head to Toe. We paid the bullshit $10 per Person Cover Charge, and then We turned to the Left where Kujo opened yet another Generic Plain Looking Steel Door.
We entered what immediately reminded Me of someone’s fucking basement that They had attempted to convert into a legit Strip Club, and failed fucking miserably. The entire “Club” was approximately 400-450 square feet in total. I suppose that the fucking Horrible Pastel Easter Yellow Paint must have been on Sale because the entire Room was Painted with it. The Walls, The fucking Ceiling, The Extremely Basic Desk like sitting area’s, and the Inside of the goddamn Door it was almost made You feel Physically fucking Ill.
I couldn’t help but notice that this so called Basement Strip Club was lacking ALL the essentials that a Good Strip Club has. There was No Bouncer, No Sound System, No Bar, Not one single Stripper Pole, No Lighting System, No DJ, and No VIP Room. This “Club” was a tiny fucking Windowless Room painted in a Make- Me -Wanna- Vomit -Yellow, with Florescent Ceiling Lights, and that was almost completely Empty.
I was informed by Kujo that because this “Club” was ALL NUDE They didn’t Serve Alcohol, BUT You could Bring You Own which made No Sense to Me. They didn’t want to serve Alcohol to Their Customers, Yet They could Just BYOB it thus negating this weird sort of Alcohol Law. We had neglected to bring any Beer with Us which didn’t exactly help this shitty situation.
We slowly made Our way to the other side of the Room and sat down on a fucking Steel Folding Chair (how fucking much of a cheap ass did the Owner have to be that He/She wouldn’t even spring for decent fucking Chairs?!) behind what looked like to Me as if a Office Desk and a Table had a fucking Kid, I assume They were Homemade especially for this Strip Club Shithole.
The Stage was just a Large fucking Block about 4 Feet high, 4 Feet Wide, and 10 feet long at the most, and Yes it was painted that Hideous fucking Yellow like everything Else. The Talent were NO WHERE CLOSE TO BEING ACTUAL STRIPPERS. The Girls lackadaisically mousied through a Doorway that was covered with a Black Sheet, NOT A CURTIN some asshole just tacked up a Bed Sheet, and called it a Day.
The Girls were already completely Nude when the strode out onto the Floor. They would then ascend to the whack ass excuse for a fucking stage, and pace around in a fucking circle and that was it. There’d be 6-7 Girls lingering onstage again pacing in a circle like a bored Zoo Animal in its Enclosure. They didn’t interact with the handful of Scummy looking Customers (Myself included not going to lie), They never Waved, Made Eye Contact, Talk to, Smiled at, or even fucking acknowledged They or We were even fucking there. The Talent seemed utterly oblivious to Their surroundings.
Every couple of minutes or so one of the Girls would be swapped out for a New one like a fucking Conveyer Belt of ass. After about half an hour I turned to Kujo and told Him as far as I was Concerned all this place was was a waste of $20, and that I was leaving to go look for the nearest Neighborhood Bar. Kujo begrudgingly agreed, and Our short Visit to this Clusterfuck of a Crappy “Strip” Club had finally come to an end.
Thanks for Reading,
By Les Sober
By Les Sober