Richard Thruster

Two great things that go great together.

For some reason, I’ve been looking forward to this NFL season.  I’m into it like never before.  I made sure to clear my schedule for tonight’s opener between the Colts and Saints.  I was jazzed, I tell you!   And ready to hit the town.

Jody’s has made a point the last year or so to advertise on 1080 The Fan, the local sports talk radio station.  They’ve been telling me they’d be my NFL headquarters for the season and “the view” would be spectacular.  Well, combine my already rock hard feelings for football with girls, and I’m totally there.

I made a quick pass by the place, out at 122nd and Glisan to see how the parking lot looked.  Deserted would be a kind way to put it.  It was only about 5:45 and all, but c’mon.  Football!  So I doubled back and parked out front.  As I mentioned last night, sometimes the parking lot can be deceiving.

It wasn’t.  I walked in to find a lonely dancer working the center stage and one guy in the back playing video poker.  That was it.  I made my way back to the bar to order my customary Coors Light.  Took a quick look at a couple of warming trays letting off some steam.  $2 all-you-can-eat tacos.  Classy.

I turned to find a seat with a good view of all the screens.  The Indianapolis and New Orleans wasn’t the only game in town tonight.  The Oregon State Beavers were on ESPN in a Thursday night game.  I figured I would centrally locate myself to watch both games while keeping an eye on the stage. The dream would finally come true.

I grabbed my seat and started looking for a game.  From left to right, the TVs showed “King Of The Hill”, the TV Guide Channel, “Law and Order”, tennis, and finally the OSU game.  I couldn’t believe it.  There are signs everywhere announcing football season was here, and I got stuck watching Hank Hill.  I suppose I could have said something to the help, but they looked less than happy to be there themselves.

So I sat at my table and did my best to avoid making eye contact with any of the dancers.  The day shift was on and they were a rough bunch of phat girls.  They did their best, but even they got bored a few seconds into their sets.  I bet it’s hard to get up for an empty room.  There seemed to be a shift change going on right about 6 or a little after.  A couple of the girls who’d been on stage headed out the door in their street clothes and a few others were coming in.  I didn’t recognize any of them from the website.

A few other guys staggered in, but they seemed more interested in the tacos than the girls.  None made any attempt to put the NFL game on.  At halftime of the Beavers game.  OSU was down 10-3.

I made my way down 102nd to Club 205.  Surely they’d be a little more on the ball.  I had a great time the last time I was in there and besides, I wanted to check out the menu.

The parking lot was pretty full, which I’m beginning to expect from the 205.  Walking in, I could tell I’d come to the right place.  I grabbed a table, looked up, and saw two screens.  One had the Colts and Saints, the other had the Beavs.  And just off to my right, a tight little blonde taking her clothes off.  Honey, I’m home.

I ordered the mushroom cheeseburger and a beer and commenced watching Peyton Manning, my fantasy quarterback this year, dismantle the Saints.  It was a thing of beauty.  After a few minutes, my meal showed up.  The burger was monsterous.  The bun fresh, the beef patty the 1/2 pound that was advertised.  A few pickles on the side and crinkle cut fries, and you’ve got a meal.  And I think it was only $4.95.  Not even Vegas can beat that deal.  I’ll definitely be back the next time I’m looking for cheap eats.

But that’s not why we really go to strip clubs, is it? No.  We go for the girls.  They had six working tonight.  Not bad for 7:00 on a weeknight.  All but one were blonde.  And most were tight little hardbodies.  They’re not generally my type, but when that’s all that’s on the menu, it’s not too shabby.  They’re all cute and friendly.  But not overbearing, if that makes any sense.  It drives me insane, for example, when a girl starts incorporating my beer or my hat into her routine.  Seriously.  Knock it off.

I sat at the center stage for the most part.  As I said, each of the girls was friendly and took a lot of time with each guy.  Giving us all the angles and a smile.  They’re particularly fond of crawling on the tables, so be aware and watch your beer!

After one rotation through the girls, I finally tired of watching my Beavers get pounded and headed for the door.  I thought very briefly about heading west and seeing if Jewel was working tonight (or perhaps Raquel! oh Raquel!) but thought better of it.  There’ll be other nights.

Since I started this a month ago, everyone who’s writtern has told me I had to go check out Club 205. For one it was his home away from home when family life became too much to handle. For another, it was a place to blow off steam after work. Others have commented on how the girls were all hot and the beer was ice cold. And the kitchen. Don’t forget the kitchen.

I’ll confess. I’d only been in there once. With The Librarian. He was in town for some conference or some such so we went out there for a beer on the way to take him back to the airport. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I mean it was nice, but it wasn’t The Dolphin, you know?

As you’ve no doubt noticed, I haven’t been out for a few weeks. Between the computer and real life, there hasn’t been time. Tonight I decided to celebrate Greg Oden Day with a trip out to the Club 205.

The first thing I noticed pulling in was how crowded it seemed. Especially for a Thursday night. Granted, Thursdays usually involve drink specials and, at least when I was in college, are a pretty busy night. But the parking lot was full and there were several cars parked along Stark. Or is it Washington? I get so confused. Anyway, I found my spot and walked along the street up to the unmarked entrance.

I like knowing the rules of a place ahead of time. That’s why I’ve spent so many hours at The Dolphin. I know what I’m getting into. My discomfort was immediate when I walked inside. At the door was a bouncer sitting at a table. He had the ultra-violet light and what appeared to be a cash register. The light is to check ID’s. And the cash register? No doubt for a cover. So I hovered at the station for a minute to see what would happen. The bouncer barely glanced at me as he kept his conversation going with a girl next to him.

“Fine,” I thought as I stepped to the bar, ordered a beer, and turned to survey the situation.

The crowd slanted heavily toward the under-30 crowd. The drink of choice was wither a pitcher of beer or Red Bull and Vodka, t he Jack and Coke of the younger generation. There’s no rowdiness and the hip-hop is kept to a minimum. In fact, the music was pretty good, leaning toward a lot of rock.

The club is laid out very well, with three stages set comfortably apart, yet close enough that you can get a view of all three from pretty much anywhere. A couple of tables were set aside for guys who didn’t want to sit at the rail or were eating dinner. I’d already filled up on wings (Wing Stop at Eastport Plaza serves a mean wing), so I took my beer and sat down at a lonely stage where there was only one other guy. And a blonde.

I quickly figured out why there was only one guy sitting at the stage. This one was…. ummmm…. rough. Not in a hideous sort of way. But in a leathery/too much time in the gym and under the lamp sort of way. And the fake boobs. Never a good sign, especially on a girl with a lot of city miles. I did soldier on though, shelling out the singles to see what happened.

Club 205 does three-song sets. The first is all clothed. The second, topless. And the third all nude. I’d sat down during the second tune. My girl came over, sat down on the rail and proceeded to bounce up and down. When everything is stretched taut, this is not a good thing. Yick. As my girl, Natasha, I think, gyrated, I looked over her shoulder to see what else was going on. Immediately I saw yet another reason I was sitting alone. There was a brunette at the other stage that put this one to shame. Tall, tone, stacked, and natural. And she performed a scorpion on-stage. The girl was a cheerleader! Holy smokes! I thought the cheerleaders only worked at Jiggles in Tualatin!

Well that did it for me. I was going to make it a short evening. But it was now my mission to find out about the scorpion girl and get a front row seat when she performed the next one.

The next rotation brought out a different brunette to my stage, called “the box”. She was younger and softer than the blonde Russian. And the lip gloss. Oh my. Yes, it was gonna be a good night. She worked through her songs and went through a couple of the same moves exhibited by her friend. One she was particularly fond of was lounging on the rail and rollong her stomach from top to bottom. I’m not exactly sure whom this is supposed to turn on. It certainly wasn’t me. The other move that’s become popular in clubs is the gyrating bootie. It’s straight out of a Snoop Dogg video and it needs to stop. It’s nearly as annoying as the ass-antler tattoo.

I sat there and pondered how I would express my dislike of the gyrate. And the belly roll. And the back tattoo. And I had to stop myself and remember that I was having a good time. The help was attentive and cute. The bouncers kept to themselves and weren’t all that visible by the stage. And the food looked pretty good. And the brunette? She was really cute. Her name is Isis. And you do need to check her out.

As she exited, Scorpion girl was coming to the main stage. Time to go see what that was all about. I like girls who are a little thicker. Scorpion Girl, who’s name escapes me, is not fat, far from it. There’s just some substance to her. A presence. I liked it. And her hair. With only a few exceptions, the hair in there was spectacular. Unlike some places, you could see these girls leading real lives outside the club. Girls-next-door, if you will. The girls get right up in front of you and aren’t bashful. And there’s no sluttiness or simulated lesbianism like at The Dolphin. Good good times.

Back to Scorpion Girl. She made her way around the stage, alternately using the pole and coming over to the rail for a close-up. She nudged my arm and beer away so she could get right down in front of me and give a great show. The stage show is second-to-none. And as she reclined on the stage to give me a shot of her breasts while she did the stomach roll (a move I’m this close to calling “The 205″), she pulled aside her bottom to show me her crotch. She’d sprayed it with glitter spray.

“It sprinkles!” I exclaimed. She just smiled and went back to work. I was in love.

As the third song came around, the bottom came off, giving a full view of everything. And wouldn’t you know it, she went straight to the scorpion and gave me a full-face view. Oh my. What a girl.

Knowing it wouldn’t get any better, I headed back to the restroom to unload some beer before hitting the video poker. The restroom was clean, if cramped. A few places could take a lesson.

As I headed over to the video poker, I glanced again over my shoulder and saw a blonde I hadn’t noticed before. I’d been prepared to completely write off the blondes and advise you, dear reader, to stick only to the brunettes. But that all changed.

Meet Allie. Young. Blonde. Soft. And stacked. She sure didn’t look 21, but I’m guessing all the girls in the place were. She had an inocent look about her that makes you want to take her home and treat her well. But you can’t, so you don’t. Unlike the rest of the girls, she had no tattoos and no piercings. Not even her belly button! So refreshing. And her smile. Oh yes. Her smile. So I made sure for the third tune that I gave her a couple extra bucks for some extra attention. And I got it. All angles. Right there.

As her set ended, I watched her pick up the bills and thank the guys as she crawled. If you’re into watching naked women crawl around and pick up dollar bills, this is your place. It’s hard to explain. Just enjoy. Anyway, as she was working to me, hopefully to ask if I wanted a private dance, she got waylaid by a guy who wanted to do some side business. I didn’t her much of the conversation. She turned him down at least twice. Good for her, I thought. But the conversation didn’t leave any time for her to come ask me for my dance. So we didn’t.

I stuck around through one more rotation so I could see Allie again. And she didn’t disappoint. After the second set, as she was putting her outfit back on, we made a little small talk. She said she’d been dancing there for about a month but was a veteran of the Acropolis and Cabaret. She said 205 was her favorite place so far. I gotta tell you. It may become mine as well.