Mostly naked, at any rate. Lesbian A was involved with her hamburger, and Lesbian B occupied herself eating our steak, being very careful that her fork never touched the surface of the table. Men in the midst of lap-dances were scattered throughout the room, and each one of them had a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about them; there isn't any established protocol for the expression you should have on your face during a public sex act.
Across the room, a woman in pajamas that Santa might wear, were he a stripper, had catapulted herself such that she was hanging by her feet from a vertical pole. When asked about the chef, all the employees we spoke to raved about "Dan" but didn't know his history or last name. In fact, I left both places with more questions than I had going in. They'd planned on eating at Souper Salads, but decided on Sugar's at the last minute, and raved about their food.
Presidential aspirations on both of their parts dictate that I don't use their names. Since Yellow Rose policy decrees that we be escorted by a man, we took a straight one called Jeremy. But all things considered, the seediness factor seems lower than I expected.
Both steaks arrived exactly medium, as we had specified, but entirely unseasoned. Of course, there are slight variations in personal style.
We positioned ourselves at a table with a view of two of the stages. Whereas most of the men looked in the throes of the worst karaoke moment of their lives at this point, Kate smiled and commented:
Across the room, a woman in pajamas that Santa might wear, were he a stripper, had catapulted herself such that she was hanging by her feet from a vertical pole. Lesbian A was involved with her hamburger, and Lesbian B occupied herself eating our steak, being very careful that her fork never touched the surface of the table. Predictably, food criticism proves much simpler than social critique. Every once in a while, between a minute rendition of "Firewoman" or "Barbie Girl," a hidden deejay, who must've lifted his lines straight from Austin Powers, announced a two-for-one sale on table dances.
Posted by: Dakinos | on October 2, 2012
Since Yellow Rose policy decrees that we be escorted by a man, we took a straight one called Jeremy. He described Sugar's as a "relatively legitimate business," and pointed out several bouncer types who monitor the room for illegal proceedings.
Here's one in a mesh dress, there's one in a leopard-skin bra and panties suit; another woman is wearing the fashion equivalent of a spiderweb. The floors of the stages are at waist level, and men wander up through the maze of tables to visit the dancers.
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