The first adjunct meeting of ass-con 1.1 -- the Los Angeles chapter -- was
called to order Monday, June 3, at
Sam's Hofbrau in Downtown
L.A.
Attending were ALS, the illustrious ZBone, Doug, Dodger, Nicholas, Christopher,
and yours truly.
The first part of the evening was spend chatting delightfully with Sophia
(e-mail), who had the conversational
skills to keep us interested, the beauty to keep us captivated, and the humor
and wildness to keep us laughing.
Later, ALS recognized a dancer he knew from the N.C. days and there was an
excited reunion. Famed porn star Lois
Ayres is a regular at Sam's, and everyone got a kick out of that. She
was very friendly, and chatted it up a little.
Saxbeat is smitten by two lovely dancers who's names he continually manages
to miss. Damn! Who's the damn DJ anyway?
BFD offers himself publicly to ZBone, bending over a chair... even getting
up on stage to match pull-up prowess with Sophia. But the illustrious one
isn't interested in BF'ing any guy who can't do at least ten pull-ups on
the suspended ring. Wimp!
The illustrious Zbone introduced us to the gorgeous
Athena, a Southern California beach
babe of the type seemingly unavailable in San Francisco. Wow! Definite Bay
Watch stylin'.
At 7 or so, the illustrious Zbone had to go to work, but not before feeding
us all a feast fit for several kings. What a class act! (Did someone actually
have the nerve to complain? Sheesh!)
At this point, ALS, Saxbeat, BFD, Christopher, & Dodger headed for parts
north and McDejaVu in North
Hollywood. This place is huge! What an operation: Valet parking, guys
in tuxes, silicone-enhanced dancers up the ying-yang, big sound and lighting
system.... blecch.
But, the ambience was actually okay. Dancers Madison and Lexxus scored big
points with the ass-c contingent with their cutie-pie looks and patented
stage moves. Adriana(?) stole our hearts with her big-as-texas-sky smile.
But, hey, who's that? It's Dave from Kat's pre-ass-con1 party! And he's still
with that dancer! NOT!!! Cool. Now, we're really ass-con1.1. Doug wins a
handful of free stuff just for being Doug: Party Animal(tm).
Arrooooo! These Deja Vu guys are pretty cool after all.
What luck, it's amateur night. There are several cuties and several arfers,
but Brooke, a total ten and goddess of the evening. The ass-c'ers scream
and yell, and whaddya know -- she wins the first prize!!! Pretty cool. Was
the contest fixed? .... Of course not. But the other dancers seemed pretty
ticked off. Hmm, have I been here before?
Well, by the end of the evening, ALS and Doug are scouting out babes to recruit
for the CP, or whatever. Being your typical ass-c guys, the waitresses turn
them on more than the dancers. Ouch! Who's that girl with the black penny
loafers and innocent smile? Who's that girl with the high school face and
sweet disposition? Heh heh. One way or another, these guys aren't planning
to drive back to SF alone. Can they pull it off? I guess we won't know till
Wednesday.
Breakfast at Mike's 24-Hour Diner in a remote part of town, with ALS, Doug
and Saxbeat. I think these guys live off the energy of strippers, because
I've never seen them so tired so early. Whazzup dudes, it's only 2:30!
Plans are changing: ass-con1.1, day 2 may be an all-day club-hopping fiesta,
or it may be a day spent trying to beat the heat at a nearby water park.
Look for an installment report on a newserver near you.
In a brave and stalwart attempt to break free of the yolk of clubbing forever,
I have decided to subject myself to an intensive course of aversion therapy.
Like those anti-smoking programs where they make you smoke until you are
physically ill, my program will consist of going to clubs until I'm sick
of it.
Under the care of Doctors ALS and BFD, I began day two of my program at the
Bob's Classy Lady clinic.
As Becker & Fagen once sang, "Hard times befallen the soul survivor."
(Or something like that.) Bob's was pretty dead. Very few customers, very
few dancers. It was sad. The gossip was that Deja Vu is encroaching on business,
pulling away both the hottest dancers and regular customers. Bob's employees
were concerned and sad, since the ones that are left like working for Bob's,
prefer the atmosphere, and want to be loyal to the place. It's a real shame.
Bob's is a club for real people. I think of it as a massively huge Chez Paree.
In an effort to compete, Bob's has dropped the prices of all private dances
during the day, and added occasional contests. I was somehow selected (heh
heh) to spin the Big Wheel o' Fantasy & Fortune on the main stage, and
won a free pass to the club! Was the contest fixed? Of course not. Other
prizes include six-month and one-year passes, half-off tickets for private
dances, and other goodies. Way cool. Unfortunately, the vibe in the place
isn't strong enough to sustain any excitement, even for the contest winners.
Bob's could still be my favorite club, but they are going to have to act
fast and decisively to stay in business. Hmmm. How about:
- a $5, anytime cover
- $20 laps/$15 table dances
- no smoking
- free admission pass to any customer who will buy 5 private dances in an
evening. (Dancer gives a ticket to a customer for each dance. Five date-stamped
tix can be redeemed at any time.)
Why not try it, guys... Has anything else worked?
Anyway, I spent a good deal of time talking with the incredibly nice Sandy.
(She says, "Hi Roger.") She is so warm and genuine. Quote: "I like having
my friends sit by the stage. It sure beats dancing for a lot of guys I don't
know." If you're at Bob's, be nice to her, buy a dance and tell her you're
an ass-c guy.
ALS & BFD like the hard babes, so they weren't having a good time at
Bob's until they met Autumn. She exudes that Dark-Side-of-the-Force vibe
that Doug digs so much, yet is pleasant and, in BFD's words, "Fine."
He's as much of a slut as I am.
WARNING: Hey guys, it's bad enough that Bob's is losing dancers to other
L.A. clubs without you bums trying to take the ones that are left to the
Chez Paree. It's not fair, even if you do own the club.
Well, the Dynamic Duo reached critical meltdown. I was having such a good
time with Sandy, they realized my therapy wasn't working. After a short nap
on the stools at the horseshoe (Want to confuse a bouncer? Take a nap in
his club.) ALS & BFD forcibly returned me back to Deja Vu.
Let me say now, forever, and for the record: I HATE THE
DEJA VU!!!!
Sorry ZBone. Dem's the facts.
Okay, I don't hate all of it. The $10 bottomless drinks are a cool idea.
You don't drink a lot more, so the club doesn't lose any money, and it keeps
the waitresses circulating. Great marketing idea that Bob's should consider
stealing.
I do hate the skanky waitresses, the high-pressure, unfriendly dancers, the
wholly obnoxious DJs -- who bring homophobia to a whole new level by using
the word faggot in every other sentence -- etc., etc.
Yeah, there were some cute girls, but the ones I liked most never came out
from back stage to circulate.
New thread topic for ass-c: Stupid dancers. If you tip a dancer well on stage,
and she never comes over to offer a table dance, yet later, you overhear
her complaining that this is a slow night, she is a bad businesswoman. Yes
or no?
ALS & BFD & I agreed to disagree on standards of beauty. We just
don't like the same thing. As BFD said, much, much later on: He's shallow.
So is ALS, I think. I go for this mental thing that is entirely based on
the X-Factor. They go for traditional beauty. I agree the dancers they like
are beautiful: I just don't want to spend any time with them.
Of course, BFD forced me to admit that I'm an absolutely horrible judge of
personal character, so what do I know? If I choose to spend time with a dancer
who ends up being unpleasant, I'm more likely to end up with an unpleasant,
unattractive woman. While at least those guys will still have something _fine_
to look at.
But of course, none of us were getting _any_, _any_ laps at all, so perhaps
we were missing out on something.
We were joined at some point during the evening by BFD's pal, Dave, who as
everyone commented later, is a really great driver.
We finally (not soon enough) left the DV. My therapy was beginning to show
progress. I was ready to quit going to clubs forever, but, after a quick
dinner, we were off to the
Spearmint Rhino.
I wasn't too impressed with the SP on my first visit many moons ago, but
the vibe on this Tuesday night was kind of neat-o. ALS was eyeing the club
with an investor's eye.
HEY, SF-BOY! LEAVE OUR L.A. CLUBS ALONE!!!
Right away, I'm snagged by Madison, a leggy blonde with a nice edge to her.
Whoa, Nelly! C'mon BFD, admit that she's hell-o'-fine.
M: Thanks for warning me.
S: My pleasure.
The highpoint of the evening was when ALS, traumatized by a poor audience
reaction to his impersonation of the spearmint rhino, came out of the closet
and confessed his love for BFD. Way to go guys. Now I can say that some of
my best friends are...
ALS: It's damn cold in here. One of my nipples is getting hard from the cold.
The other one is getting hard from sitting next to BFD. And I'm getting a
woody from talking to Saxbeat.
Saxbeat: It's nothing _I_ said, honest!
Then, I met Summer.
ZBone: Hurry down to the SR and check this babe out. You can make it three
Summers in a row! Young, sweet, and lively, she is. With that edge that I've
grown to love. Pierced in all the important places.
If she wasn't so, um, good, I would think that she only graduated highschool
last year. (sigh) What a smile. If you're one of the dying breed in ass-c
who likes making sweet talk with a fun conversationalist,spend time with
Summer. Tell her you read about her on the 'net.
Again, the boys failed to concur on my choice of the evening, instead getting
all worked up over these tall, willowy things with all the edges of a sand
dune.
Topic 2 for ass-c: Define the difference between dancers with and edge, and
dancers on the Dark Side. Explain how a dancer with no edge can be in the
Dark Side, and vice-versa.
The boys discovered the second Sophia of ass-con1.1, who as it turns out,
is good friends with one of the CP dancers. Can a tear-filled reunion be
far behind? Oh, boo hoo.
Well, I could have spent the entire evening with Summer, but the boys were
anxious to return home and consummate their newfound love for each other.
No breakfast on this night.
Well, you lousy doctors, my therapy didn't work. I'm smitten by Sandy and
Summer, so now I have to go back to both clubs.
The only doctor who can help me now is Kevorkian. (Or another trip back to
Deja Vu.)
Anybody ready for group therapy?
