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| - Let me preface this review by saying that I dislike strip clubs... and no, it's not because I'm a sex-negative feminist or to appear a gentlemen (you will quickly figure out I am not). I'm a strip club burnout - I've been going to peeler joints since I was 16 (it was cool then, seriously). I had a few friends in the industry so it was it quickly became routine after the 'hookup' angle wore off. And a few of my business associates only conduct meetings at strip joints. And I spent a lot of time in Vegas when I was younger. So - ya - I get the same excitement going to a peeler joint now as going down to the post office. (shrug)
But I honestly was not going to go to Montreal without visiting at least one strip club. I'm Vancouver - a city famous for vice - and I've heard of the war stories from people returning from trips/bachelor parties from Montreal. I just had to see what the big deal was. So - I grudgingly did some quick research and picked Cleopatra - largely based on Mike W's excellent review.
Largely picked this joint because it's a locals joint and I never liked the 'upscale', glitzy strip clubs (i.e. Spearmint Rhino). There is no bigger lie than a 'gentlemen's club'. If you're a Vancouverite - I was looking for the Montreal equivalent of No. 5 Orange - not Brandi's. If you've been to Vegas - I was looking more for that seedy little joint by McCarran (which has no name because it doesn't have a website) rather than Sapphire's. So all the strip joints in Ste-Catherine were no-go zones - total tourist traps... especially with places named 'Super Sexe'.
The bouncer was predictably surly but was pretty helpful. There's no cover but he asked for a tip, I slipped him a blue-note (I'm a baller)... he wasn't satisfied so I dropped a Macdonald for the three of us.
As expected, the performers here are kinda 'B-grade' at joints like this - but I just don't like plastic and you'll have a better time at places like this. Plenty of girls working on weekend night and this joint is definitely for the locals. I saw the same narcoleptic old man Mike W. mentioned in his review - no exaggeration, the man would nap, drink from one of the many beers in front of him and occasionally stagger to/from the stage seats and go back to sleep.
We got there during happy hour and I was told told it was 2-for-1 - sweet - so I order and pay for the first round: $18 for 3 bottles of Budweiser (it was a white trash kinda night). Then the gears started churning - wait - she charged us $9 for a bottle of Bud? On the second round, the waitress in her limited English said she misunderstood thought I wanted to full price rather than buy 3 for 2. Did we look that stupid? So I asked if she can just bring us the remaining 3 beers we were owed since I already bought 3. She says okay... and then returns with 6 bottles of Bud and asks for $18 again. Ugh. At this point, I was tired of the language barrier and just took all the beers. Oh well - at the average price of $4 a bottle - whatever.
So - after getting about 5 beers deep in about 40 minutes (my tablemates didn't want to forcefeed themselves 3 bottles of crappy Bud each before hitting a club) - I figured - alright. Let's get a lap dance before we go. I scan... I survey... hmm... none of the girls seem to be hustling at all. I know we were at a co-ed table and you have to be aggressive at a place like this - but the place was dead and they were just standing around and chatting. Bleh - fuck it - $10 'full contact' lap dance will wait for another day. But good if you don't like pushy dancers.
So I just admired the stage show and just bullshitted with some of the locals at nearby table celebrating retirement. Got to chatting about one of the dancer's assets and F1 - then one of the older gentlemen asks me, "Do you know the secret of being a good father?"
... I was expecting him to give me the Chris Rock bit: "You're a good daddy as long as your daughter doesn't wind up on the pole." But he dropped some knowledge. He dropped some sagely wisdom - I bought the man a shot as a sign of my gratitude, shook his hand and left for the next destination.
So - I didn't get a lapdance at Cleopatra - but I did get parenting advice. (shrug)
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