By scotty-win on April 21st, 2007 (more posts by author)

After 45 minutes ($-18) there, it’s time to go back to the room to round up for the Spearmint Rhino visit. Why are we going at 11am on a Sunday, you ask? Because there’s free cover before 1pm - you know how we roll. This part of the trip was really for Ubaldo. He never got a real bachelor party and wouldn’t let us stop hearing about it. So we keep the true purpose of SR a secret, and he thinks it’s just some place we can get a cheap brunch. Steve and I had heard there’s a dress code, so we try to encourage people not to wear holey jeans & t-shirts, but without giving away the destination.

We get to the place around noon, three in a cab and five in Dave’s car. Steve was in the car with Ubaldo and will have to pipe in about how he reacted when he figured out where we were headed. We’re in there, no cover as advertised, and there’s a few scattered clusters of dudes and girls in the corners, and no one on stage (of course, since it’s freakin’ early).

We sit all lined up on a bench, and within 30 seconds we’ve each got a girl nestling into our laps. I’d been to one strip club before, but the girls stayed on stage at that one, so the direct solicitation is new for me. Steve and I buy Ubaldo $20 lap-dances pronto, then my brother springs for one for me. She’s a decent blond with real boobs, but she’s no Crystal/Chandiss/Candy/Star. She rams her butt against my crotch for a while and that’s that.

In the meantime, Dave’s got this girl talking to him the whole time, and no one’s bought him a dance yet, so I get him one and she escorts him to a dark corner. Steve’s got a 40-year-old w. fake boobs on him at the moment, but as soon as she’s gone, he’s like “uh oh, where’s Dave?” and I point to the corner. We’d heard stories about what happens in those corners and how much it costs, so I’m a little curious/worried about my brother, but it turns out he just got another dance. I’m there long enough and don’t feel like dropping any more $20’s, and the other guys seem the same, so we bounce as soon as Dave’s done. Like I said – nothing too exciting.

Next was lunch at In-n-Out. It’s packed as hell and we wait half an hour for our food. We amuse ourselves by watching all the drunk people stumble around. One girl runs into Jon, and he looks at her and she tries to say “sorry” but “sugh” comes out, and she holds up two Coors Light tall-boys and shrugs. Here she is 20 minutes later:



In-n-out is a cluster-eff as the whole wait-for-your-food-before-you-grab-a-table cycle of life has been abandoned, but Alex finagles an 8-top by pretending he’s Jesus and blessing the group that’s about to leave. Then he asks them for their leftover fries, sprinkles holy water on them, and eats. Here’s what I ate…