| rev:text
| - Sigh. It wasn't my fault. They dragged me into this place.
After a nice dinner out with the employees, we needed a place nearby to go drink and dance after the sticks-in-the-mud went home. So someone said they had a couple of drink passes and we ended up at Forty Deuce. First impression: Great! But that was while we were waiting to get into the club. The bouncers and host-dude were super nice and even cracked a few jokes with us. So I'm thinking "This won't be that bad...."
Oh Mags, wrong wrong wrong.....
When we got in (locals are free thank god), I felt like I had entered a compartmentalized sardine can. For all the great things I had heard about the original Forty Deuce and how it was such a crowd magnet, this was the last thing I expected. The center bar is teeny tiny and the drinks are way overpriced, even for a strip venue.....plus some tired old ridiculously made-up hag who looked like she'd been working a corner on Fremont for about 72 hours straight on a too-small quantity of meth was a complete bitch to me and my employees (who she could have made a lotta money off of, had she been a bit more friendly).....
Simmer down now Mags....
Anyhow, after that we walked the three steps to the main floor area. Which is about as big as maybe two of my dorm rooms freshman year in college, if you took them by both ends and stretched them out to be skinny and cramped. The "VIP" area (all 6 tables maybe? maybe less?) was about half the size of that. Sadly, I was hoping to dance that night and because there were more than about 20 people in the club, dancing was impossible from the lack of room. Oh, and the music between the shows every hour was top 40....but a randomly mixed top 40. I remember hearing Prince and Justin Timberlake and Dexys Midnight Runners in the same ten minutes. I was confused but the totally effed up tranny with the bad sex change that stood by itself in a corner absolutely loved it and started doing the Scuba to every song.
The girls weren't too bad looking, as far as girls go, but there is very little here that resembles a true burlesque act. The first girl out must have been bored off her tit, because her number had about as much pizazz to it as my senior-citizen dad taking a dump. However, she came out again later and did a much better routine with another girl and avenged her obviously neglected talents from that first number. Still wasn't burlesque, but they swung from the ceiling like little plastic monkeys - and I like monkeys. I also liked the little band that rotated out of the wall too; they turned out to be funny. I also got hit on by a group of guys almost ten years my junior who were pretty cute, so half of the star rating is for that. LOL.
But I still won't go back. Sorry Mandalay - I still love you as a whole though.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)