Monday, March 04, 2013

Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 58

Since its March and a lot of people have Spring Break, all of the Monday Morning Stories With Mookie in March will be about activities that happened in my favorite Spring Break location:  LAS VEGAS!!

The Time Mookie And Junior Went To The Cheetah

A few years back, long-time-hometown-friend "Junior"(*) and I made a journey to the mighty Las Vegas for an extended weekend of gambling and beer.  It should go without saying that we were successful in these endeavors (A previous "Monday Morning" story about a different event on the same trip can be read HERE).  This trip is also memorable because we were able to visit a place that had recently became a humorous locale amongst our group of friends.

Prior to us making the trip, we came up with an informal list of things we wanted to do and see during our excursion.  One thing we unofficially put on the itinerary was to go check out "The Cheetah."  If you have seen the movie "Showgirls," you obviously know that The Cheetah is a topless strip club in Las Vegas.  If you haven't seen the movie "Showgirls," well....you should know that The Cheetah was the name of the club the primary character worked at.  You're welcome.

I should mention here that the actual name of the establishment is "Cheetahs."  You know...just in case you decide to make vacation arrangements yourself.

Since we had previously seen this movie together with our posse of friends, we all joked about how if any of us made it to Las Vegas ---we HAD to go visit The Cheetah and report back.  It was for this reason alone that on the second night of the trip we decided that a visit to The Cheetah was a must-do.  We simply knew we'd regret not taking the opportunity to visit when we were right there.

When we looked up where The Cheetah was in relation to our hotel (Stardust), it didn't appear to be that far off The Strip or the hotel. So to save a few bucks, we thought it would be a genius idea to WALK to The Cheetah.  Naturally, this turned out to be a horrible decision because not only was the club farther out than the map indicated, but also because Junior and I were both sporting pre-trip leg injuries.  Junior had some pre-existing-long-time foot issue, and I was suffering a painful bout of "runner's hip" from my running regimen.  So needless to say when a cab stopped near us and asked if we were going to a strip club, we said "YES."  When we asked how much the ride would cost, you can't imagine our surprise when he said "A dollar each."  Can't beat that!  He then told us the club paid him for bringing in customers every night.  We also asked how much the trip would cost when we left the club back to The Strip.  I don't remember how much it was, but it was way more than I wanted to spend. So we figured odds were good we'd be hoofing it back.  Yes we are idiots.

I need to mention here that I am not an experienced attendee of these sorts of establishments.  I am not offended by them by any means, but out of respect to my wife more than anything - I am not comfortable getting some strange girls boobs pushed in my face.  Plus odds are good she pushed her boobs into some gross dude's face a few minutes earlier, so that takes the allure out of it for me.

At the time I think I had previously been to a strip club once.  That outing was with a group of people (including my wife), and we just sat at a table not near the stage and watched.  Junior on the other hand...well let's just say he'd been to a few gentleman's clubs in his day.  It was because of this I told him from the get-go that I was probably going to follow his lead on things because I had no clue how things worked.

When we exited the cab and made our way to the front door of The Cheetah, I have to admit it was a bit exciting even though I was nervous (I'm such a girl).  The bouncer checked our ID's, saw that we were "out-of-staters" and said the fee was $20 each.  I knew this beforehand, but still....$20.  I just hoped it would be worth it.

We walked into the dark club, and went down a short hallway that went past several rooms that had hanging beads as doors.  Inside you could see shadows of what I presumed to be various patrons getting a lap dance by one of the dancers.  We then entered the rest of the club where there was a bar, a large seating area, and the stage for the dancers.  Oh, and there were lots of topless girls too.....I should mention that.  The seating areas not near the stage had chairs/couches in small circles, while the center of the circles usually had a small table or a table with a pole.  The stage was on one end of the room, and had rows of chairs that went down three-sides of it.  Various dancers could be seen working the room, grinding, dancing, talking, and hustling.  Junior said he wasn't sure he wanted to go up front by the stage right away because he didn't know if it would cost more to do so and didn't want to look stupid.  So we mutually decided the bar was the best place to start off.  We sat down at the bar and each ordered a beer that cost $10.

We sat there for awhile taking in the sights, and talking about various things while trying to act aloof to the topless ladies that were parading by with regularity.  It was then that a particular whore dancer chose to assert herself upon us and offered her "entertainment services."  She was at least wearing a shirt, so that minimized the awkwardness I was feeling.  She started out working both of us, but ended up focusing on me for some reason.  Junior just sat there smiling and listening while this chick tried to make small talk, and attempted to sit in my lap. This was easier said than done given the fact I was sitting on a bar stool, but I give her a B+ for effort.  While the novelty of this chick talking to us amused me, I definitely had no intention of getting a lap dance this evening.  I should add that this poor girl held no chance of getting money out of my wallet due to her severe case of FUGLY.  But because I am a nice guy, I sat and tried to carry on a polite conversation with her over the loud house music blaring in the background.  She asked where I was from, what I do for a living, how long I was in town, blah blah blah.  I'm pretty sure I lied because...you know...this is Las Vegas.  She finally asked if I wanted to have a private dance, and I told her "No thanks, not right now.  My friend and I just got here and we are checking things out."  My hope in saying this was that she would see through my politeness/uncomfortableness, and understand that I wasn't interested.  I quickly learned that she didn't take "no" for an answer, and continued to be persistent.  I guess John Candy said it best in the movie "Brewster's Millions:" "If you don't make any calls, you don't make any sales."
"If you don't make any calls, you don't make any sales.
Am I right Your Honor?" - Spike Nolan (John Candy)

Junior continued to sit there and act like he wasn't listening, but I could tell he was having a good laugh over my uncomfortableness.  Meanwhile, stripper girl had slid off my lap and had positioned herself more or less straddling my leg with her crotch on my knee.  Did I think this was hot?  No.  The thought going through my head (swear to God) was "Man, now I'm going to have to burn these pants."

Finally, she figured out no matter how uncomfortable she made me, I was not going to succumb to her slutty ways.  She finally got up and said something along the lines of "When you get a boner, look for me."  Yeah I'll get right on that.  At this point, all I wanted was another beer.

Junior and I each got another beer, and continued to take in the surroundings while chatting.  It was then we noticed this one girl down the bar talking to (what appeared to be) a few "off-duty" strippers.  She was obviously intoxicated, and I could hear her saying things along the lines of how she "could be a stripper."  She proceeded to pull her shirt up to show her friends her boobs, and when they weren't looking she pulled down her pants.  They quickly saw this and made her cover herself as this wasn't "that sort of club."  For some reason or another, she stumbled down the bar towards Junior and I and decided to strike up a conversation.

The first thing she wanted to know is if we were cops.  We told her we weren't and she said we were lying.  We said that if we were cops we probably wouldn't be drinking beer, but she still insisted on thinking we were cops since we had been sitting at the bar and not hanging with the dancers.  It was then she began talking to us about something, and she had one of those annoying girl voices that are even more annoying when they are drunk and you can't understand them. Plus she was trying to talk over the music, so it was pretty bad.  It was then she decided to show us her boobs and see if we thought she'd be a good dancer, to which were like "Sure."  What else are you going to say to some chick showing you her boobs?  Apparently she thought we were pretty cool and decided she NEEDED to buy us a shot of Patron.  She started digging in her little purse, and pulled out what was easily the last $24 she had to buy us shots (they were $12 each).  I felt bad, but she was determined that we HAVE the Patron.  So we licked some salt and did our shots.  She then said she'd "be right back" and went back over to her stripper friends but thankfully she never came back.  It wasn't long after that Junior and I determined that our stay at The Cheetah had run its course, and decided to head out into the night.

Once we got outside, we stuck to the previous plan and started walking.  We weren't exactly sure which way we were going, but we could see the Stratosphere was not too far off and headed in that direction.  Eventually we limped back into the Stardust, and continued our beer and gambling festivities.

In the end, I have to say The Cheetah was sort of a let down.  It definitely wasn't as glamorous as the movie made it, but you can easily blame Hollywood for that.  And while the girls were "OK" looking, they weren't as HOT as you would expect Vegas strippers to be. Then again...ugly strippers gotta eat too I guess.

A funny side-story to this:  When we got back home and told our friend "Rick" (*) about our trip to The Cheetah, he insisted that the girl buying us Patron was "definitely" a hooker.  While I don't think she was a hooker, I admit it definitely livens up our story when we say "Yeah a hooker bought us a shot of tequila in a strip club."

I should also add that I got a case of "pink eye" not long after I had gotten home.  The wife said I probably got it at The Cheetah.  "You probably have Stripper Eye." she said.  I'm not sure where I got it, but what I do know is that I should have burned those pants after that gal sat on them.

(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

Miss a previous Monday Morning Story???  Click HERE!

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