-After the breathing in my ear, my other favorite memory of my favorite first lap dance happened about halfway through as Tigre was giving me a good close-up of her doule-a's. As she moved up and down inches from my face, her nipple grazed my cheek. She quickly apologized. Obviously none was needed. My first stilted stripper conversation occurred moments later as she was searching for her undies. They were under my chair. Weird.
- The Lizard Girl will give me nightmares for months. At one point toward the end of her set, she lay down on the stage and pulled her ankles behind her head. So all I had was a shot of her ass and vagina. Which is fine. I'm all for that. The problem came when her head popped up and I swear it looked like it shot straight up out of her crotch. Alien-style. AND she kept lip-synching with the music. Combine that with the stare, and you'll forgive me if I hit the video poker next time I see her.
- Amazonia. This cannot be emphasized enough. One of the girls looked like Grace Jones' white sister/lover. Another, despite points for the red hair, wasn't far behind.
- The dj. Remember when Whoopi Goldberg tok over Hollywood Squares and permanently put Bruce Vallanch down in the bottom left? Well Bruce (or his brother) is now the dj at Cabaret II. Every break starts with "lllllllladies and gentlemen..." Ummmm... Dude? Yeah, I was the only customer in the place. There was no need for the theatrics. Just introduce the girls and remind me they only work for tips. Leave the cheesecake personality out of it. You're almost as bad as the guy who used to be at the Dolphin 1. Almost.
The more I think about it, the more I think I should go back. Some Saturday night when I'm not the only dick in the place.
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