Parkway Tropics Dance-A-Gram

horrible place, lighting sucks, so dark you can barely see the girls, they go overkill on the black lights as well. most of the girls are decent looking and maybe half have actual talent for dancing, however they spend more time sitting at tables talking with the old men than they do dancing, I spent 30 min sitting at a table without one girl offering a dance and with seven girls and only 4 customers including myself, i would say that is pretty pathetic. Only thing this place has going for it was the bartender, very attentive and sweet disposition… But Don’t waste your time!

My first trip to Parkway Tropics was also my first trip to a titty bar. I went with some co-​workers (all male, one of which was actually my uncle) after work one evening. We walked into this grimy, dirty, hole-​in-​the-​wall, westside place of pure debauchery and found a table for four.
The first stripper I saw, was my neighbor. I once knew that she worked there, but had completely forgotten. Topless, she walked up to me, like she would have out on the sidewalk of our street to say hello. I was used to seeing her taking out her trash each Wednesday, and here she was with her breasts (which looked really great for her age) in my face. She said «Wow, you look great!» I responded with, «Uh, so do you…» Blushing, I sat down. We ordered some Budweisers, which I am pretty sure was the best quality beer they had there, and got comfortable.
The boys were really getting a kick out of having me there and slapped down a stack of ones in front of me. I must have gotten fifteen lap dances that night… and there were only four girls working. My neighbor gave me a few, one of which she put a dollar bill in my mouth and took it out with her boobs, then complimented me on my soft face and told me it was nice to do that to someone without a five o’clock shadow.
The restroom situation was odd for me. It’s a gentleman’s club so there wasn’t really a public ladies room. I had to go into the bathroom where the dancers were getting primped and ready, and spritzing that usual «stripper scent» all over themselves. My neighbor cornered me in the bathroom and told me that I should work there. I told her that I had no rhythm and couldn’t dance, so she invited me to her house for lessons. I told her I would think about it.