Strip Club in Vladivostok
On my last night in town I decided to go out for a drink as I had not done so. It was all a clever ruse to give myself permission to head to the xXx Night Club. I walked down the street from the hotel to the place with the beer mug on it, expecting a pub. It wasn’t. Across the street where the bouncer like guy was standing. Nothing there either.
Well, you tried, Adam. The only possible solution is to go and see some strippers.
I walked up the road to find the 4 German shepherds chilling at the top of the staircase I was going to use. I decided to walk up the driveway. I was wearing my black vest, fake 1.5 year old Paul Smith sport shirt, saggy, faded Hurley shorts with my 2 year old Onizuka Tiger track shoes. Perfect dress for a seedy strip club!
I walk in the door. The brightness blinds me. It is a night club with all the lights turned on. The lighting, however, is soft as energy efficient fluorescents have not made it to Vladivostok. The decor is classy. Other than the soft music playing, it is dead quiet. A girl in a white maid outfit is slowly dancing on the stage. She has all her clothes. A gentleman is sitting on a bench with a lady, not watching the show. A few employees are milling about.
I order a beer from the bar. Sapporo. Small bottle. Japanese import! I get my money ready. Ooooh yeah, going to pay. Peel off 500 for the 230 ruble drink. “Big spender,” I think to myself. 9 dollar beer! A somewhat cute bleached Russian chick walks up to me and says something in Russian. "I don't understand Russian." I reply in English. She looks at me, at the bartender who is unlocking the computer to input my beer purchase, moving back to get the swipe card, going back to the computer...and she speaks to me again. "I don't know what you are saying." She beckons me to follow her over to the coat check.
She talks to coat check girl. Bar guy is there getting my change. Coat check girl shakes her head and then says to me. "You speak English?" "Yes." "It's 1500 rubles to sit and watch a show." "Really? I just wanted to have a beer." "You can't." I turn away...60 dollars...for what? "Are there any other bars around here?" "What?" "In the neighbourhood." I draw a circle with my finger that definitely means 'around here.' "Are there any bars?" She shakes her head, "I don't know." "Hmmmmm," I give her a skeptical look.
I was about to regail her with all the things I could do for 60 dollars that would be better than sitting in a quiet strip club, drinking 9 dollar beers but instead I went to the bar, looked at the tip jar, looked at the bartender, picked up my beer and shrugged my shoulders, "sorry." I walked back towards the door, looked at bleached girl, gave her a smile and shook my head, looked at the coat check girl, gave a big look around the room before delivering a “seriously? Omg," face with suitable hand motions. Took a drink and pushed...no pulled my way out the door. "Spat. Spat. Spat," alerted me to the situation. The fizzy Japanese beer was foaming over. I remained calm and let nature take its course. "Have fun in your beer smelly entrance hall. About as close as you'll ever get to a strip club people will go to!" My glorious, sneering thoughts brought laughter and satisfaction. I high fived myself and drank my beer alone and stripper-less, wandering the darkened streets.
Well, you tried, Adam. The only possible solution is to go and see some strippers.
I walked up the road to find the 4 German shepherds chilling at the top of the staircase I was going to use. I decided to walk up the driveway. I was wearing my black vest, fake 1.5 year old Paul Smith sport shirt, saggy, faded Hurley shorts with my 2 year old Onizuka Tiger track shoes. Perfect dress for a seedy strip club!
I walk in the door. The brightness blinds me. It is a night club with all the lights turned on. The lighting, however, is soft as energy efficient fluorescents have not made it to Vladivostok. The decor is classy. Other than the soft music playing, it is dead quiet. A girl in a white maid outfit is slowly dancing on the stage. She has all her clothes. A gentleman is sitting on a bench with a lady, not watching the show. A few employees are milling about.
I order a beer from the bar. Sapporo. Small bottle. Japanese import! I get my money ready. Ooooh yeah, going to pay. Peel off 500 for the 230 ruble drink. “Big spender,” I think to myself. 9 dollar beer! A somewhat cute bleached Russian chick walks up to me and says something in Russian. "I don't understand Russian." I reply in English. She looks at me, at the bartender who is unlocking the computer to input my beer purchase, moving back to get the swipe card, going back to the computer...and she speaks to me again. "I don't know what you are saying." She beckons me to follow her over to the coat check.
She talks to coat check girl. Bar guy is there getting my change. Coat check girl shakes her head and then says to me. "You speak English?" "Yes." "It's 1500 rubles to sit and watch a show." "Really? I just wanted to have a beer." "You can't." I turn away...60 dollars...for what? "Are there any other bars around here?" "What?" "In the neighbourhood." I draw a circle with my finger that definitely means 'around here.' "Are there any bars?" She shakes her head, "I don't know." "Hmmmmm," I give her a skeptical look.
I was about to regail her with all the things I could do for 60 dollars that would be better than sitting in a quiet strip club, drinking 9 dollar beers but instead I went to the bar, looked at the tip jar, looked at the bartender, picked up my beer and shrugged my shoulders, "sorry." I walked back towards the door, looked at bleached girl, gave her a smile and shook my head, looked at the coat check girl, gave a big look around the room before delivering a “seriously? Omg," face with suitable hand motions. Took a drink and pushed...no pulled my way out the door. "Spat. Spat. Spat," alerted me to the situation. The fizzy Japanese beer was foaming over. I remained calm and let nature take its course. "Have fun in your beer smelly entrance hall. About as close as you'll ever get to a strip club people will go to!" My glorious, sneering thoughts brought laughter and satisfaction. I high fived myself and drank my beer alone and stripper-less, wandering the darkened streets.