Mar 27, 2010



A few years later (six to be precise) Dino would come to the land of Miller Beer, cheese heads and brats (the sausage not, the unruly kids) for a week in the summer.  By then yours truly finally had some drinking and strip club experience under his belt and remembering the filthy little hovel that Dino had taken me to so many years earlier, I had devised a plan.  Well, OK, it was more like revenge, but come the end of the day I knew he would get the joke.  HEH!

There was this place called The Spot, and it was a horrid little place, with overpriced beers (even by strip clubs standards) and lackluster performers (of the unattractive and out of shape sort).  How did I find this place?  Let me share this story.


My friend Mike was on leave from the army during Christmas and we decided to go to see some boobies.  I only knew where one club was, so Mike decided to look in the phone book to see if there were others in the area.

I did not know that strip clubs advertised in the phone book.  For some reason I found that bit of information completely hilarious.  As I am typing this I am still giggling about that.

We ripped out the page that had the listings and went on this quest for beer and breasts.  The first place we went to was a place called Heart Breakers.  It was just like the Motley Crue's "Girls Girls Girls" video but it was so crowded that it took forever to get a beer.  I am the kind of guy that if I have to wait for a beer, it's an automatic rejection from me.

I know that there were breasts being shimmied and exposed but if I have to wait five minutes for a beer, well that's just unacceptable.  After about an hour we went to the next place on our B & B Adventure.

We arrived at a place called Cheetahs.

There was this moment while we were walking through the Lincoln Town car and Cadillac filled parking lot that I had a feeling that this may not be such a wise decision.  We approached this very nondescript building and all kinds of alarms were going off in my head, BUT I was committed.

At the door, there was a list of rules.  No Beepers, no fur, no sport caps, no guns/knives/brass knuckles (this one made me very VERY concerned), and no use of illegal drugs.  I looked at Mike and he just shrugged his shoulders and said "How bad can it be?"

We opened the door, and I honestly saw the biggest black man I have ever seen.  And by biggest I meant 6'9" - 6'10" and had arms bigger than my thighs, without flexing.  He looked at us...pulled out a hand held metal detector and proceeded to metal detect us.  During this I was watching his arms get bigger and bigger.  He saw me staring, grinned and made a muscle.  He flexed his muscle and I kid you not, his arm doubled in size.

He asked us if we were going to make any trouble and in that instant I remembered every bit of courtesy and good manners my mother had ever taught me and I honestly replied in a very meek voice "No sir, I promise you will get no problems from me."

He laughed and said "Have a good time boys."

In that same meek voice I said "Yes sir, anything you say."

He laughed again, we paid the cover charge and he told us that they have a two drink minimum and then he opened the second door.

Before I get to the actual experience inside this establishment, I have to describe Mike and myself during this time period.  Mike was one of those guys who is very white, like Larry Byrd white, with a military haircut.  More or less he looked pretty clean cut.

I was still emulating Nikki Sixx.  I was this Mexican with long ratty/spiky hair, hoop earrings, and black eyeliner.

OK, you have those images in your head?  Good.

Mike and I walked in the second door.  Where I was witness to another dive, and a dive whose entire clientèle, employees and dancers were all African Americans.

Mike was leading the way, and they gave him this cursory glance, but when their peepers got a hold of me, the glaring and dirty looks commenced immediately and would continue for the 35 minutes we were there.  I was the one who was on the receiving end of the cold (as in iceberg cold) and unwelcome glares.  Needless to say I had never finished the 2 drink minimum in under five minutes before that particular evening.  That night I also found out I had the super human ability to have 6 beers and 4 or 5 shots in 35 minutes.  Not even the dancers came by me.  The only person who treated me somewhat decently was the bartender.

35 minutes came and went and we we're on our way.

Next we went to The Spot.  I was in there for a couple of minutes and I had flashbacks to my Juarez experience, and I thought to myself if Dino ever comes up to visit I'm bringing him here. (I'll be going into details about this establishment during the "REVENGE" portion of this blog)

The night ended there, thankfully.  I didn't know how many more disappointing strip clubs I could endure.


Six or so months later, Dino was here.  I suggested we should go out for drinks, and that I had found this awesome place he would just absolutely love.  Since Dino and I are very alike, he wholeheartedly agreed.  I again did my Nikki Sixx emulation process, and Dino did his "going out" getup which is best described as part Guido and part Goth.

We got there around 9 P.M. which for strip clubs is usually the time when it starts to get busy.

The Spot was hopping.  When we walked in we doubled the clientele.  There were these two old guys who were playing cards with the bartender who looked like Crazy Cooter from the Dukes of Hazzard but nowhere near as friendly.

We both take a seat at the bar just as one of the the dancers hits the stage.

The stage was a piece of construction beauty.  It was a part of the bar with extensions to make it about 6' by 9' with a pole in the middle.  The bar was one of those oblong things, so when a dancer is done with her routine, she actually walks around to collect tips on the bar itself.

The performer was sheer magic.  She had a beer belly.  Not the cute little belly that some girls have.  It was the kind that actually hid part of her thong.  She also had some less than flattering scars and an unfinished and faded belly tattoo that was supposed to be a unicorn, but now kind of looked like a bull (I know this because I asked her).

After her routine, she did the bar walk.

She got to where Dino and I were sitting and she took an immediate liking to Dino.  She was flirting and making small talk with my cousin.

She asked him where he was from.

He said Dallas.

She said (and folks I can't make this up) "So where's that?  Is it in Wisconsin?"

I started laughing, and Dino had this incredulous look on his face.

He said "No, it's in Texas."

She said "Wow, there's a Dallas WI, and a Dallas TX, that's incredible."  Then she picked up his bottle of beer, licks the bottle seductively, places it in between her breasts (while resting it on the previously mentioned beer belly) starts dancing with it, let's go of her breasts and shimmies and shakes with this "licked" beer bottle resting on her belly.

I tip her for her hard work, and Dino just sits there watching her as she puts his beer back down on the bar.  He tips her.  She walks around the bar and looks back at Dino and blows him a kiss.  Afterwards she walks into the back room.

My cousin immediately pulls out his wallet, puts a buck on the bar and tells me "We're getting the fuck out of her...RIGHT NOW!!"

I ask why he's not finishing his beer.  He physically shudders and just walks out the door.

I bust out laughing and follow him out.

He asks me "Why the hell did you bring me here?"

"Do you remember the place you took me to in Juarez?  Consider this payback.  Which makes us even."

He just stares at me, then punches me in the sternum, starts laughing and says "You're right, we are so even."

Yes, it's true folks, sometimes revenge is best when it served cold.  Or at least when it's served by a scary looking chick, who licks bottles.  Heh.

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