For some god-awful reason, I've been here twice. Housed in a double-wide trailer (for real) and next to a sleazy strip motel (also, for real), disappointing ladies shake and shimmy on a tiny pit-style stage while everyone else glows under the black light.
This last trip was particularly depressing, mainly due to the preggo dancer who was prancing and spinning topless and bottomless with a modified tube top covering her baby bump. There were a couple cute girls wandering the floor, but they all must have danced earlier in the night when more-sober patrons were applying more scrutiny to their selections.
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