Richard Thruster

Miss Nude Oregon is a mostly meaningless exercise in club promotion.  I was going to attend this year, but didn’t have the time or the inclination.  The thing went on way too long last year, and judging by some of the comments in the club’s MySpace announcement, it would seem like things went equally over this year.

seeing as carla was at the meeting the day before when Bruce told us to be there at 6 and we all received a contract that clearly stated the times I am guessing she knew exactly when to be there. But because she has been f-ing one of the managers, why be timely when you are going to place no matter what? Bullshit. This contest may not be completely rigged but it looks like favors will get you favors.

Roxxie is not only one of the best couch dancers in town, but apparently she’s got a little spunk too! You go, girl!

I’ve been spending a little time at the D-1 of late, mostly out of convenience.  I know I swore the place off a while back, but dammit, old habits die hard.  Well, no more.  Friday night pretty much did it for me.  With the exception of Miss Scarlett, who’s picture you will find under the definition of “sultry”, the girls were forgettable and the service less than stellar.  One girl in particular was so glass-eyed and out of it, it was tough to tell whether she a) knew where she was or b) knew I was three feet in front of her.  I hope she had a ride home.

The Dolphin brand is one of the best in Portland and the D-2 remains one of my go-to establishments.  But from what I’ve seen out of them the last several months, I may need to take a break.

Besides, I have a new favorite club…

I honestly don’t know how many strip clubs there are in the Portland area. 50-plus, would be a good guess. Each has their pluses and minuses. Everyone has their favorite and that preference is primarily decided by comfort. If you find someplace you like and where you feel at home, the more likely it is you’ll be back. The Dolphin I used to be that place for me. Now it’s the Dolphin 2.

It was my intention Friday night to check out Stars in Beaverton. And I will soon. But my car ended up driving itself to the other side of 217 and straight into the arms of my new favorite.

I pulled in about 10 to find the parking lot only about half full. Weird for a Friday night, I thought. But with football season starting, school starting, and the news from Wall Street this week, I think folks may want to stay in for a little while. Just a hunch.

Anyway, I paid my $5 cover and walked into the room. Jewel was finishing up her set on the back stage, so I parked at a side table and figured she’d be along shortly to say hi. She’s really become one of my favorites. She’s a smart one. And beautiful. Somehow she’s managed to avoid getting any tattoos or surgery. A rarity in the industry. I like that.

As her set ended, another dancer stopped by and sat down. Her name, I think, was Cecilia. She’s blonde. Early 20s. Great smile and very easy to talk to as well. It’s always awkward for me when girls sit down at my table. They’re really only there for one reason and I’d say about 80% of the time, they’re not going to get what they want out of me. But I’m polite and hear them out. Cecilia never really put the screws to me or anything, but I also never told her flat-out “no”. Preferring to drink my beer and think of new ways to turn her down. I told her my 401k had taken a hit that day and I wouldn’t be buying much of anything. She didn’t like that one at all. Too bad.

We kept up with our little verbal dance until it was time for her to go on stage. I felt bad, because I know she’s running her own little business in there. As the DJ reminds us at every chance, dancers are working for tips and tips alone. And time is money for them. So it would behoove them to move on when a guy says no. When they don’t? Hey, that ain’t my problem. What is my problem though is the rest of the night, I kept running into her and we kept having an awkward conversation about a sale that just wasn’t going to happen. There’s a business metaphor in here somewhere, I just can’t figure out what it is.

As Cecilia went to her stage, a girl I hadn’t seen for a long time moved to the center stage. It was Candy from Medford. Freaking weird. She was in town in early August for some competition that she ended up not entering. I moved over to her stage for a couple of reasons. One, she’s cute. Two, I’m a sucker for redheads. And three, on a slow night such as this, it’s best to hang close to the stage so no one will bother you incessantly for a couch dance. Or more.

Candy had a fourth thing going for her. She was wearing this choker that reminded me of my favorite porn star on the planet, Aurora Snow. I first caught Aurora in what turned out to be her second (I think) movie, which was shot on her first day in the industry. It was Real Sex Magazine #32. And I was hooked. She was brand new to the industry and it showed. But unlike some girls who’ll fake their way through a scene just to get it over with, Aurora gave 100% effort even though she wasn’t 100% sure what she was doing. Her effort in Ed Powers’ More Dirty Debutantes #152 was equally great. The girl had literally gone from zero to porn star in the space of a day. And for me, a big part of it was that choker. I have no idea why, but it really did it for me. So Candy had the Aurora choker on and her long hair matches that early Aurora hair. I’m telling you, spending a few minutes with her on-stage was almost like spending time with Aurora herself. And I’m all for that.

After her two songs, Candy exited and it was time for Misty.  She’s really grown on me in my last few visits.  She’s a petite blonde with a cute face and a beautiful ass.  She’s clearly getting more comfortable on stage.  When I first saw her, she kept her butt covered almost the entire time.  Now she seems to be a lot happier with her body.  And whoa is she flirty.

She and I had the stage next to the video poker machines all to ourselves and she put on a great show for me.

“It’s almost like getting a own couch dance, isn’t it?” she cooed into my ear.

Yes it was.  She gave me all her angles and plenty of close-ups.  When you go out there, and I can’t recommend highly enough that you do, make sure you grab her and take her back to the couches.  You won’t be disappointed.

After she left, I worked my way back over to the poker machines.  I had zero luck which was compounded by one dancer literally draping herself over me, asking me to “celebrate” back in the VIP room.

Celebrate?  What, exactly?  That I was getting mauled by a machine?  Very nice.  But like I said, it was a slow night and a mark is a mark.  So I cashed out and headed straight back to a stage.

Right as I sat down, the DJ made a cryptic announcement.  Something about “Darius”.  I looked over to the entrance and there in a red baseball jersey and St. Louis Cardinals cap was Portland Trail Blazer Darius Miles.  He and former Blazer Zach Randolph gained well-earned reputations for showing up at various strip clubs around town.  I was bound to run into him sooner or later.

He took a seat at the end of the bar nearest the door and just chilled.  After a few minutes a security guy showed up with at least $500 in fresh singles and handed them to Miles.  Darius divided the stacks and gave one to each of his buddies.  It was “make it rain” time.  Unlike other lame attempts I’ve seen in other clubs though, this one was gonna be the real deal.

Each of the guys worked their way around the various stages, stood behind an empty chair, and watched as the girls worked the pole.  When the moment was right, they’d peel off several bills and throw them into the air.  $20, $30 at a time.  They didn’t spend a lot of time in one location, preferring to move.  One guy came over to the stage I was at and took up a position straight across from me.  He peeled off a few bills and threw them.  Then the girl sat down on a chair and opened her legs wide right at him.

“Just throw ‘em right in there!” I yelled over the music.

He looked over at me, smiled, took half a strap and did just that.  We nodded to each other and he was off to the next girl.

All the while Darius sat at the bar and talked up a couple of folks.  I have no idea who he was talking to or what about.  He did look to be in much better shape than when Jack Bog took this picture of him at the final home game.  What this means for his status this coming season?  I haven’t a clue.
A quick note on the “Jail Blazers” and strip clubs.  Players going all the way back to Bill Walton have lived very full lives while in Portland.  Jerome Kersey and Cliff Robinson both had grand times in the late 80s and early 90s and both may one day find their numbers in the Rose Garden rafters.  So don’t give me this line about how Zach and Darius showing up in strip clubs is a bad thing.  It’s no different than any other team in pro sports.  I’m sure even a few members of the sainted San Antonio Spurs have spent some time in one of Portlan’s fine adult establishments.
I think Gavin Dawson put it best a few months ago when he said neither Zach nor Darius has been convicted of anything, so it may be time to just give them a pass and leave them be as far as their extra-curricular activities go.  I’m inclined to agree.  That’s not to say I don’t believe both need to go.  Clearly, I think, they do.  But not because they enjoy strippers.  As long as it doesn’t affect their on-court performance, and I don’t believe enjoying the company of females does (see also Johnson, Ervin “Magic”), and they’re not breaking the law, then I think players off-court hobbies should be left alone.

Darius only stayed for about a half-hour.  Despite a couple of nudges from the DJ, he didn’t spend any time in the VIP room, much to the disappointment of the girls.  There will, no doubt, be other nights.

By now I’d switched from beer to water, anticipating the drive home.  But between Jewel and Misty, I couldn’t peel myself away.  I was sitting at a table with one girl who could tell I was distracted by Misty, so she nudged me up to the stage.  Misty asked if I was following her.  I said I was.  She said “good” and smiled.  She then came across the stage and nearly rested her head in my lap.

“You’re just a tease,” I said, “I know your type.”

This got her going.  She stroked my head and smiled that smile.  It was clearly working for me.

“Yeah, I’ve met girls like you before.”

And she purred.

Man oh man.

Turns out aside from the fact she clearly wanted to take me out for pie and hot chocolate, she was also giving me extra attention because the group at the other end of the stage weren’t tipping.  And when you sit at the stage and don’t tip, you’re gonna pay.  Somehow.  One girl a few songs later literally didn’t take her clothes off in protest.  Now that was funny.

I ended the night by talking with both Jewel and Misty for about 20 minutes.  Jewel had told me Misty liked my review and wanted to meet me.  When I finally told her who I was, she lit up.

“That was you?”

“Yeah.”

She had no idea.  And as happy as she was to see me before, she was even happier now.

We talked a little about the blog and what I was up to.  She’s pretty savvy when it comes to the ‘net.  A smart smart girl.  Not quite Jewel smart, but right up there.

I finally got out of there just before the lights went up.  I’m telling you, if you want the full meal deal, it doesn’t get much better than the D2.

After a funky Friday night, which I promise I’ll get to, I needed something to cleanse the pallet.  The choice came down to the 205, Jiggles, or The Dolphin II.  Each had their merit.  The 205 is closer to home and Jiggles features a younger crew that I have yet to review, but the D2 had something neither of the others did.  Raquel.  Redhead strippers are few and far between.  Even fewer are really hot ones.  And Raquel is certainly that.  So flush with a grip of cash from my night gig, I made the trek out to Beaverton Saturday night to visit my new favorite.

Rolling in, the girl at the door was going over the menu.  I asked her what she was having as I paid my cover.  She replied the fettuccini was pretty good.  That’s surprising since normally I don’t equate Italian with a strip club.  “Actually”, she said, “anything with chicken is pretty good.”  Worth noting.  There are only two menus in town I’ve been wanting to check out:  the legendary steak at the Acropolis and the bar food at the 205.  Everywhere else has left me kinda squeamish.

Moving through the door I immediately scanned the place for Raquel.  The plan was to stick like Velcro to her until she’d taken all of my money.  Unfortunately she wasn’t working.  And that just sucked.  Is she still out there?  Has she moved somewhere else?  I need to know!  I’ve got singles that need to be thrown!

It wasn’t long before Plan B came into focus.  Sitting in the back corner, nursing my beer and feeding Raquel’s money into the video poker machine, the DJ announced Jewel was next up on the main stage.  The pole stage.  Time to go make acquaintances

.

After my last time in there, I was 99% sure she knew who I was.  How could she not?  Everytime she was on stage, I was right there.  Then a couple of days later a glowing report showed up on the Internet.  I figured the gig was up.  And besides I owed her a couch dance to see how the new improved Jewel stacked up against the old jabby Jewel.

I sat down in a corner and waited for the show to start.  She immediately saw me and smiled.  Yeah.  She knew.  The show was spectacular as usual all the way down to hanging from the rafters by her legs and swinging back.  Oh goodness.  Her set ended with her naked, sitting on the rail with her back to me.  *Sigh*  As she scooped up the bills she asked if I wanted a private dance.  I did.  She told me to meet her in the back for the next tune.  I headed straight for the ATM, because I knew this wouldn’t be a one-tune thing.

It took an extra minute to get cash from the machine.  Looking across the room, I could see Jewel was looking for me.  In the room.  Around the entrance.  It’s probably not the first time someone had disappointed her.  She’s a businesswoman and probably doesn’t take kindly to a-holes who run off on her.  I caught her eye and assured her I was hitting the ATM.  Probably a good sign from her perspective.

We retired to the same couch Roxy and I had used a few weeks ago.  We made some small talk while we waited for the next tune to start.  Didn’t she know me from the Dolphin 1.  Do I come here often.  All that sort of stuff.  Pretty soon the song began.  She took off my glasses and went to work.  She started out asking what I liked.  Knowing that she knew who I was, I sensed she wanted to give me a good show.  I assured her I was in her hands and she could do whatever she wanted.  She rubbed the back of my neck, asked if I liked it, and we were off.

After my last couch dance with Jewel, the one where I swore I’d never make that mistake again, The Librarian and I hatched a book idea.  It would be a sales book comparing the sales game to the stripping game.  It’s all about sales, you see.  And the two things all “successful” sales guys and managers love are strippers and metaphors.  If you’ve ever read that book Who Moved My Cheese or, the even more dreadful, Fish!, you know of what I speak.  We had the outline all done up during our drive back home one night.  Unfortunately neither one of us remembered to write any of it down.  So it’s lost to the ages.  Except one chapter title.  “Can’t get past the jabby”  In a word, that was my initial issue with Jewel.  It was all finger-tips and jabbing.  Not a good thing.

Jewel, though, is a smart cookie.  She’ll see if something’s not working and adapt.  She’s honed her craft and is good at it.  Both on stage and now on the couch.  Where before it was sort of frenetic and…well, jabby, now it’s softer, more free flowing, and…well, nice.  Some nuzzling, some blowing on my ear, and lots of rubbing earned her a second dance.  Oh!  And a nice shot of her cleavage while she lay on my lap and rubbed the back of my head.  Heaven.  Jewel has one of the best bodies going.  Period.  And $20 to have her lay down on my lap and show it to me (even though it was covered) was a bargain.

At the end of the second song I said she had all my money and we went back to small talk.  I asked if it was her or someone pretending to be her who’d e-mailed me.  She said it was her.  We spent the next 20 minutes talking on the couch about this and that.  Like I said, smart smart girl.  And not in that Phil Stanford “she can speak four languages and put a bunch of sailors in their place” sort of way.  It’s more of a “don’t piss her off because someday we’ll all be working for her” vibe.  Hopefully when the revolution comes, she’ll be kind.

Our conversation quickly ended when she was called to the back stage.  Our newfound friendship gave me some extra benefits.  She kept making little comments to me as she passed by, but I could only make out the pronouns.  Beyond that, I just smiled and nodded.  And fed her singles.

As soon as her set ended, I headed back to the video poker.  I was having relatively good luck at the machines, picking up $30 or so which wasn’t too shabby.  I had no complaints.  I kept one eye on the action in case there was anyone else I wanted to check out.

There was one girl I’d talked about last time I was in there who was back.  Short.  Very cute.  Bubbly.  And blonde.  I saw she was on the side stage, so I made my way back.  She leaned down and asked my name.  I gave it to her and asked hers’.  “Misty,” she said.  Oh Misty.  She proceeded to put on a show for everyone at the rail.  She’s gorgeous.  All the way down to her toes.  Unlike last time, she was a little less shy about showing off her butt, which is one of her best assets.  Last time she kept it covered and made sure to pull down the back of her skirt lest it be exposed.  This time, though, it all came off.  As she stood in front of me and bounced her tits a little, she said she didn’t like doing that because it made her butt bounce.  I told her she had a great ass and she shouldn’t be bashful about it.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

From then on, I got a little extra.  A close-up of her breasts.  A little tap on my head.  Clearly I’d gotten her attention.  Later, at the mainstage, she came over and thanked me for the compliment then proceeded to crawl down the rail to give me an up close look at her ass.  *Swoon*  After Jewel, I cannot say enough good things about her.  And it’ll be because of her that I’ll be back again.  Soon.

My night wrapped up a little while later.  I’d been drinking ice water for a little while and it was starting to make me a little chilly.  Jewel was standing at the bar with another guy, looking at the menu.  I went over to thank her for the dance and the conversation.  And I recommended the fettuccini.  Can’t wait for my next visit.

Well, OK. I’m not in love, but I certainly had a great time and was separated from a few more dollars than I had intended. The evening was supposed to be about checking in with Jewel to see if indeed her skills on the couch had improved since I’d last experienced them. It ended with a freckled redhead kissing me on the neck after I complimented her breasts. Only in a strip club.

My last trip to the D2, as the kids call it, was for the Miss Nude Oregon pageant. You can read all about it here. I wanted to see how it was on a “regular” night. I pulled in around 8:30 to find the parking lot beginning to fill up. I paid my $5 cover and headed to the bar for my customary bottle of Coors Light and to load up on singles. $4.75 for a bottle of beer seems kind of steep, but if anyone can get away with that, it’s the Dolphin.

I sat down at a table to get my bearings and see if my girl Jewel was in. At first glance I couldn’t see her. The girl on stage, an Asian, was a nice distraction. She was younger and looked happy to be there. So important, I’m finding. If you’re not having fun on-stage, I’m probably not going to have a whole lot of fun on the rail.

It wasn’t long before the DJ called out Jewel’s name for the main stage. Oh goodie. She came out wearing an outfit not unlike something Marilyn Monroe would have worn back in the day. Like this here. Only barefoot. Was she going specifically for Marilyn? Probably not. But who am I to quibble?

As is her custom, she went right for the pole and proceeded to defy gravity. Spinning upside down, hair flying, arms outstretched. I don’t know about her couch skills, but I can tell you she’s been working on the pole. At one point, hanging upside down with her legs wrapped around the pole, one hand on the ground to steady herself, she reached up, undid her top and let it slide down. The clincher though came during the second song. Naked, she climbs the pole, which is probably 8′ high, swings her legs out to the rafter above and wraps her legs around it, lets go of the pole and just hangs there by her legs, back to the pole. She took a second to get her bearings, then swung back, flying from the rafter back on to the pole and spun all the way down. I’m telling you, it’s worth the cover and the expensive beer to watch that. It’s Olympic. Has she been working out? You can’t tell by looking at her. She’s still soft and curvy. And that smile. Remind me to have her over for Festivus.

I was bashful about sitting right down in front. Would she know it was me? And was I ready to chat about the blog? The answers are probably and no. I still want to keep some anonymity.

With Jewel gone, it was Candy’s turn. She’s a tall, thin drink of water with long hair and a nice body. Like Jewel, she worked the pole like a pro. At one point she got her hair caught in the bolts and such at the bottom of the pole. A fun little moment.

After she left the stage, I hit the head and went for another beer. As I stood at the bar, who should approach but Candy. She started to chat me up but with a speaker right above us, I couldn’t make out a word she said. I finally asked her to sit down with me away from the crowd. We sat in the back corner and talked all things stripper. She tells me she’s from Medford and dances at Le Dolls. Only it’s not Le Dolls anymore. It’s something else. She was up for a pole dancing competition the Dolphin is sponsoring. Apparently there was a qualifying round on Thursday night, but she decided not to compete. It’s a long story.

Sidenote: With apologies to Natalia, Jewel, IMHO, was robbed on the Miss Nude Oregon thing. And after watching her last night, I’m even more convinced of that. She has the hottest body, hands down, of any girl in there. And the smile and the hair. And the zero tattoos. She’s the complete package. That said, if she doesn’t win this pole competition, there’s something seriously wrong. I guess the finals are at the Dolphin 1 in a few weeks. That means she won’t be able to do the rafter trick, but everything else will be on display. She should win this thing walking away. End of discussion.

I told Candy she should enter the competition. She’s better than most everyone in the building, But she said she couldn’t afford to drive all the way up and not win. Besides there’s something going on down in Medford. Some star is coming to work and she needs to be there to pick-up the sloppy seconds.

As with all stripper conversations, ours ended with an invitation to go visit the couch. I was saving myself for Jewel and politely declined.

I made my way back to the rail in time for a set from Raquel. If Jewel is going to be my dancer crush, Raquel would be the girl I keep on the side. Tall. Red haired. And freckled. Oh God the freckles. I could have sat there and just looked at her lounging nude all night. Her body was taught and perfect. And she had some spunk, which is nice. Unlike a few of the girls I’d met earlier in the week, hers’ seemed genuine. Like she really wanted to know what it was I sold. And who knows, maybe she did. All I knew was I wanted to catalog every last mark on her body. Goodness.

It was somewhere in here the night went off the rails. Knowing I wouldn’t be stopping at just one couch dance, I hit the ATM for some ammunition. The DJ then announced we were celebrating a special occasion. A guy had just returned from Iraq and his buddies wanted to show him a good time. So they brought him up on stage bachelor-style and had one of the girls give him a show to Skynyrd. Normally I’m all for this, but the DJ couldnt let the song just play. He kept having to interject. Actually the whole night he played more the role of hype-man than DJ. Which is fine, I guess. The clientèle certainly enjoyed it. They were mostly an under-30 crowd who’s idea of a strip club was straight out of a Puff Daddy video. The Dolphin gives that experience in spades.

There was one other girl I wanted to check out before I got my dance with Jewel and went home. There was a youngish blonde with pale skin and a killer soft body that I wanted to see. She had that “what in the Hell are you doing in here” look that I go for. She finally ended up dancing on the side stage near the DJ booth. It took about thirty second to figure out what she was doing there. As she sauntered around on stage, you could see the tattoo working its way up her side and around her right breast. Yikes. Thats not my thing at all. But I wasn’t going to let that deter me from getting a good look at her. She looked sort of uncomfortable with all the single guys up there. The groups were all sitting at the main stage. The side stage was all degenerates. Myself included. Except I wasn’t the guy taking notes. Kids, THAT’S creepy. Right up there with trying to snap cell phone pictures while no one was looking.

She eventually got her panties off and peeled the dress down to expose her breasts. She wasn’t comfortable showing off her butt and several times pulled her dress down to cover it. This is a crime since that’s one of her best features. When Sir-Mix-A-Lot spoke of the LA face and the Oakland bootie, he was speaking of this girl. Man. Except the tattoo has got to go. At least no more, ok?

With all the silliness out of the way, it was time to go visit Jewel. She came back up in the main stage and went right back to her routine. A group of guys sitting opposite me couldn’t help but applaud and throw money “making it rain-style”. And as much as she wanted to give me attention (I have a feeling she put two-and-two together immediately and knew it was me), she couldn’t ignore the guys waving all the cash. And who can blame her. She’s there to make money, not get critiqued. At the end of her set, she gathered up her cash and quickly went back to the couches. Time was a wastin’.

Dang. I’d struck out. With a stripper, no less! How does that happen?

So I went to the bar to grab a glass of water and reload on singles. I was determined to wait the fellas out and get my private time with my girl. No sooner had I sat down than Roxy came and joined me. She’s a cute brunette with an easy smile. We chatted a little bit. The place had nearly completely filled up and I asked her if it was always this busy. She said it was. We compared notes on the Dolphin 1.

“It’s in a weird location” she said.

I told her about the buffet and the old days. She seemed interested, but we both knew why she was there. And she eventually got around to asking.

“I’m a little drunk and want to give you a couch dance.”

‘Nuff said. I asked her if she thought she gave better dances while drunk. She replied she did everything better while drunk.

“Except drive.”

I might be a cop. You never know.

So we went back to the back, hand in hand.

I’ve had probably hundreds of couch dances over the years. Some good. Some great. Some terrible. The Roxy experience is definitely in my top-5 of all-time. She’s always a surprise because I never remember to put her and her couch skills together. There’s a disconnect. As soon as she went to work though, I remembered I’d traveled this path with her a few times before. Her style is all about contact. She puts her body right across yours and never loses that contact. She stroked my face and neck with her hand while she moaned into my ear. And slowly worked down my face and neck, taking nibbles along the way. Yeah. She had my attention.

She worked around to my face and nose and lips. And gave me a good look at her still-covered breasts. Oh God. When the song ended, I didn’t have a choice but to go around again. She knows what gets guys going and gives it to them 110%. Any girl who wants to improve their game should spend some time on the couch with Roxy. I guarantee your customers will beg for more.

I managed to peel myself away from Roxy after two songs although I could have gone on with her all night. Working my way back to the main room, I saw Raquel was on the side stage and had to get another look. We picked right back up where we left off. She, trying to figure out who I was, I trying to figure out how to get her to slow down and let me drink in every inch of her. I’d forgotten how much I dig freckles.

After her set ended, I got up to leave but she chased me down, practically demanding I get a table dance from her. I was hoping this would involve her being inches away from my face, naked. But no such luck. It was a couch dance. She promised me the ride of my life. After the E-ticket that is Roxy, that would be difficult to pull off. We talked a little more about my pseudo-career and where we lived as we waited for the next song to begin. Eventually she whispered she was going to shut-up and went to work.

Raquel’s style is a little…firmer. And thats not a bad thing at all. As I said before, she’s taught and obviously works to keep herself in shape. I was distracted because my car keys kept jabbing at the both of us as she thrust herself into me. She didn’t seem to mind, and as she nibbled on my neck, neither did I. She let her hair fall across my head and caressed my face while she gave me a good look at her breasts.

Our time was up way too quickly. My Jewel fund was spent and I just sat there spent. I let her know her freckles drove me insane and her breasts were phenomenal. You would have thought I’d just asked her to the high school dance. She quickly kissed my neck and thanked me. Genuine? Who knows. I guess I’m not paying her to be genuine. I’m paying her to entertain. And that she did.

I wasn’t planning to go back to the Dolphin anytime soon. There remain way too many other places to check out. But there are way too many loose ends at the Dolphin. Will Jewel win the pole dancing competition? Have her couch skills improved since we last encountered one another? What would it be like to be the filling in a Roxy/Jewel couch sandwich? And most importantly, does Raquel like me for me or for my wallet? I guess we’ll find out next time on “As The Dolphin Turns”.

My favorite porn series of all-time is Ed Powers‘ “Dirty Debutantes”. Ed is a fat, disgusting every-man who’s carved out a niche within the industry. For about a six or seven year period in the late-90s and early 21st-century, any new porn starlet who wanted to make it in the biz had to start by crawling across Ed’s bed. The girls were literally fresh off the bus. It was a beautiful thing.

Over the years Ed has told the story of the evolution of the adult industry. He’ll tell you it was intentional, I know better. Back in the early to mid-nineties, porn was still pretty taboo. Girls who appeared in it were doing so most likely to support drug habits or something similar. There was no glitz. No glamor. But Ed started to change that. In his early stuff you would watch nervous young twenty-somethings who weren’t quite sure what to expect submit to Ed’s slow cajoling. The best example was Dirty Debs #17 where in one scene he got a girl to talk about all the experience she had while her knees were literally fused together. It took about 20 minutes, but Ed soon had her face in the pillows.

The next scene started out very similar. He had this girl, Angel, naked and masturbating on his bed. It was as far as she’d go. That was that. But Ed kept going. Lying naked next to her. Eventually getting her to stroke him off. Then there were a few whispered words, inaudible except for “…and my manager will never know?” and Ed had her on all fours begging him to go harder. It was a beautiful thing.

As you move through the series (I think he’s up somewhere in the 400s these days…at an average of 4 bimbos-per-dvd, that’s a lot of bimbi…finally figuring out he was playing Russian roulette, he started using condoms 100% of the time in 2001), the girls eventually get a little easier. A little more willing. NO better example of this than a young Aurora Snow appearing in Dirty Debs 152. She still had a fair amount of baby fat on her and was pretty inexperienced. But she was a trooper. And just a few years later, she was AVN’s female performer of the year.

These days everyone knows what’s expected and everyone performs their assigned tasks flawlessly. My favorite scenes, though, will always be the ones with the girls who aren’t quite sure they belong there. The ones who walked in good girls, who’d only been naked for their boyfriends, and walk out defiled for the whole world to see, still not 100% sure they should have done that. Those are the ones I can rent over and over again.

Why am I telling you this? Because Thursday night at the Dolphin II, I saw a guy and his buddy sandwiching guy #1’s innocent girlfriend on the rail at Miss Nude Oregon 2007. I sat in the back of the club and just watched her as she sat still, trying to figure out where things went wrong. She should be studying for her law school final up at Lewis and Clark, instead, she was designated driver for her boyfriend and his high school buddy J-Dogg. It was an interesting way to start the evening.

I’d only been to the Dolphin II one other time. It’s probably been five or six years ago. I like the Dolphin plenty enough, but the girls there were getting kind of old, so I decided to mix it up. Again, it was a comfort thing. As similar as the two places were though, there was one huge difference. The volume. They had the music at the Dolphin II cranked all the way to 11. I could barely order a beer. I haven’t been back since.

The place hasn’t really changed much in the years since. The bar still sits along one entire wall that faces the three stages. The video poker machines are still in the back corner. And there are still exposed rafters at the top of the poles for the girls to work into their routines. The music has been turned down. which is nice.

Thinking things would kick-off at 8, I showed up at 7 to get a decent seat and take in the place. After walking the entire room and finding nearly every table had been reserved for this party or that, I found a spot at the bar and sat down. The place was pretty much empty save for the college kids on the rail and a few regulars. Hip-hop music dominated the first set I watched a thick number go through the motions. Definitely nothing to write home about.

Turning back to take another pull on my beer, I saw Jewel walk in. She was carrying a giant basket full of Twinkies or something. She’d put her little campaign flier on each cake and was passing them around the club. She walked over to me and we played our little “don’t I know you?” game. Then she asked me to take a cake. I couldn’t figure out if she was running for Miss Nude Oregon or class president. Probably both.

Around 8:30, I found an empty table in a rear corner of the club and sat down, thinking things would begin happening. The night, though, kept clicking away. Folks kept filing in. The DJs kept exhorting the crowd to get loud with the promises of free porn and concert tickets. After a while, an older guy came over and asked if my table was reserved. I told him it wasn’t and he was welcome to have a seat. He promptly grabbed his stuff and sat down. He’d brought a rose and box of chocolates. Turns out he was a benefactor for Miss Nude Oregon 2006, who quickly came and joined us.

I couldn’t tell you Miss Nude Oregon 2006’s name. I can report she’s a bleach blonde 20-something. Probably 5′6″ or 5′7″. Stacked. And a pretty good conversation. I asked why she wasn’t competing this year. She said there was an unwritten rule about defending one’s title. She was also missing from all the fliers advertising the event. They showed the 2004 and 2005 winners, but not 2006. I figured it had something perhaps to do with this. Nah. Turns out she’d had a kid or something and she wasn’t able to make the photo shoot. If true, she’s bounced back in grand style. Hot doesn’t begin to describe her.

Around 9:30, they finally got around to getting things going. All 6 contestants were introduced. We had Jewel and Electra Blue from the Dolphin I, Russia and Selina from the Dolphin II, and two others who’s names I couldn’t quite figure out. The “M” girl from my night at the Dolphin I was there. And the sixth girl, well…it sounded like “Faux” but I don’t think that was it.

Introductions went a long way toward extablishing the night’s favorite. My favorite, of course, was Jewel. She was first to be introduced. The curly hair, the curves, and the smile have all won me over long ago. Like I said, I just have to avoid conversation or any sort of touching.

Next up was Electra Blue. She came out with these blue sunglasses that matched her dress. Obviously going for some look, she came off more like a cartoon character than a stripper. Add to that the tattoos, and she was out.

Russia was introduced next. A TALL girl. Straight brown hair. You can check her out here. The crowd was polite, but not overly enthusiastic.

Faux was next. I couldn’t tell you a thing about her.

“M” came up to a thunderous applause which was my first indication that she would go far. She obviously had a lot of support in the crowd. I don’t know how she does it. I suspect an evening back at the Dolphin I will help me get that sorted out.

Last, but not least, was Selina. She’d stopped by our table earlier to say hi to Miss 2006. Selina reminded me of a Beaverton trophy wife. The hair, the tan, the smile all screamed suburbia. But she was probably the second favorite of the evening. Not my type at all, though.

They all exited, and a new set of girls came up to dance for the evening. It seemed this was how things were going to go. A few minutes of action followed by two sets of regulars dancing for money. Which is fine, I guess. But it being a school night, I did need to get moving. It didn’t help that there was a photographer there taking pictures for someone’s mag. Everyone seemed to know him. He had a younger assistant that I would have liked to know. I have a serious thing for redheads and generally know when one is in the room. She sat at the table next to mine and seemed to be there with a girlfriend. A LOT of lesbian action in the room on Thursday night. I’ve no idea what that was about. You could tell though that it was a celebration. Kind of the Oscars for a select set. I’m sure as the year wears on, I’ll get to know who some of the faces were.

I finally took off around 10. There was no way I was going to stick around until 2 to find out the winner. My money is on “M” or Selina. As soon as I find out who it was, I’ll let you know.

Update: Turns out M’s name is Natalia. I was close. Sort of. Anyway, she is your Miss Nude Oregon 2007. You can go check her out at the Dolphin I. Congratulations!