Strip clubs are a place where guys go to relax and see naked women.  Cleveland has its fair share of clubs.  Like all nudie bars, some are better than others.  And there are some that should never have been opened in the first place.

Pinkies:  One such club that should never have existed was called Pinkies.  The place looked like a couple of drunk high school kids made the place in their dads garage.  Picture shag carpet from the 1970s, now matted down and covered in decades of beer and other fluids.  There were two octagon stages joined by a small straight stage, with two rusty poles.  White picket fencing used to give privacy to the lap dance booths, now with holes cut out and Plexiglas installed (dancers were giving blow jobs and fucking patrons).  There was a juke box instead of a sound system, and the dancers had to use their own money to play songs. 

The place was 18 and over.  It was a joke to send guys there for their 18th birthday.  The only other times you went is if you were slumming or had little money.  It also had a porn shop attached.  It wasnt a normal porn shop.  It sold used porn.  Let that sink in for a moment, USED PORN.  A few friends and I went because we were slumming.  We also found out that Pinkies is where strippers went to die.

 We took seats at the stage since there were no tables to sit at.  Our eyes were assaulted by women that should not be naked in public.  The dancer that was on stage had a mullet, wrinkled A-Cups, and a C-Section scar.  Two drunk teenagers were throwing dollar after dollar to watch her shake her flat ass in their face.  The next so called dancer came to the stage.  She was good from far, but far from good (at first).  Her face didnt make us cringe and she had at least a C-Cup.  Her top came off and her boobs werent that bad.  The next song started and she stood in front of me and took off her panties.  What I saw next has forever scared my mental picture of the night.  She had fucking dreadlocks hanging from her snatch.  I shit you not, motherfucking dreadlocks!

I asked her if she had a razor at home as she waited for me to give her a dollar.  She said that she did have one and used it on her legs and pits.  I suggested that she should use it on her twat.  She called me an asshole and moved along.  The next dancer was attractive with one exception, she had track marks in her arm.  She asked me if I wanted a lap dance.  Out of morbid curiosity, I asked how much it was.  She said $20 for the dance plus a tip of $30.  I told her to fuck off.  At this point we were asked to leave.  I gladly walked out and never returned.

Crazy Horse:  The Crazy Horse was among the nicer places.  It looked like someone had actually planned to open a club and put thought into it.  Some college friends and I went about every other weekend.  There was one stripper that was cute, and had A-Cups with huge areolas.  The areolas almost took up her whole tit on each side.  I bought a lap dance from here and stated that she had the biggest areolas that Ive ever seen.  She looked at me and asked what I said.  I repeated myself and followed up with a statement that they were fucking huge.  The next time we went, she was up on stage with her hands covering her tits.  She also avoided our table.  The next time we went after that, she had quit.  I took some joy in the fact that I gave a stripper a complex about her body.

They also had a tall sexy blond stripper.  I pissed her off one day when I asked her if she could slam dunk.  She got pretty pissy with me and told my friend that if he bought a dance, it would be the best time of his life.  He was great at negations and got her to give him a money back guaranty.  He sat there and looked at his watch every few seconds, asking when the good time would start.  She stopped before the song ended and walked away from him.  He didnt have to pay for the half song of a lap dance.

Then there was the cat shit stripper.  She was a cute chubby girl.  I had gotten to know her as a friend outside of the club.  She was fun to hang out with, but was crazy as hell.  She sat at our table and told us that her cat had shit on her street clothes before she left.  Because she was running later, she didnt change.  She just cleaned it off.  For the rest of the night we smelled cat shit whenever she came by.  Word spread throughout the club about the cat shit incident.  No one bought a lap dance from her.  And when she took the stage, guys left.  She made no money that night.