If you recall Roccopalooza I, you might remember how pissy I was about getting left behind when everybody else went to Scores - the strip club.
This time I wasn't going to miss going to the strip club. I've only been to one other sleezy, postage stamp sized club in New Orleans a brazillian years ago. Scores was a Cadillac vs. Yugo in comparison.
It didn't take long to figure out that these girls were definitely not working their was through law school, business school or even beauty school. The girls were decidedly slow on the uptake. They even moved in slow motion.
Every shot of a strip club on TV shows or music videos show the girls working it hard. The music is upbeat and hips are griding everywhere you look. Not at Scores. These girls must have been "medicated". Pretty to look at (well, except for the one that looked like a transvestite with a couple of watermelons drooping from her chest) but they tried to slink around at glacial speeds.
I followed a guy back to watch his lap dance. Not sure why but it turned into MY lap dance. She pretty much ignored him and concentrated on me. I really wanted to watch him get a lap dance so I would know how it was done but, alas, I'm still as ignorant as ever. Afterwards I was told that she was terrible. Sigh. He ended up getting another lapdance with his first choice - a beautiful brunette - and came back with eyes glazed over. I'm assuming she was much more skilled.
There was a special running during the first palooza at Scores: free sweatshirt with a lapdance. This time, no free sweatshirts. Once again, I was screwed. Figuratively only, of course. At least I didn't have to pay to get in.