Local News 
A series of unfortunate events
2 commentsLast night I had the misfortune of coming across possibly the worst strip club. Ever. Whilst on a works drinks do last night I had the pleasure (or should that be displeasure) of attending a little strip club down on the Quay known as "Tiffany's".
After a few drinks in Timepiece and Coolings Cavern (not sure if that's the name of it) it was decided that all being male and enjoying an evening's bonding that we should engage in the age old pastime of attending a titty bar.
Now I've been to a few titty bars in my time (most memorable being in Budapest where I paid £100 to have a lap-dance from a bird that had the body of a 14 year old boy whilst she quizzed me about my work prospects and whether Hungary should join the Euro) so I'm pretty sure I know what to expect. You go in, pays your fee, pay over the odds for drinks whilst some fitty taps you up for a lapdance. I'm not sure they are aware of this procedure in Tiffany's.
Now not being indigenous to Exeter my suspicions were raised slightly due to the fact that my colleagues led me through a series of housing estates to get there. Once there I couldn't help but notice how nice it must be to have shelled out probably about half a million on a house to get a view of the strip bar.
As me and my two colleagues (who I won't name to save them getting a shoeing from the missus) approached the bar I had to question whether on not it was actually open. Never in my life have a seen a queue barrier that only had a doorman queuing at it.
As we came up to the doorman we preceded to have the longest lecture ever about how to behave in a strip club. Seriously this twat should be doing health and safety videos. After assuring the somewhat bored doorman that we were neither A) serial rapists or B) perverts who like to wank in coat pockets we were allowed entry in the fine establishment. After paying the £10 entry fee (surely a fee so high as to send the doorman to night school so he can learn to remember the Oscar winning speech he had given us) we pushed back the leather door and entered.
It was safe to say that the only thing dancing was the fucking tumble-weed that went past as we entered. So unperturbed we headed to the bar and paid about a mortgage for 3 pints of lager. What we didn't realise was the barmaid was the fittest thing we would see all night...
After chewing the fat for about ten minutes some girls actually came out from the "backstage" area and made a b-line for us. Only problem being she was ugly and had the body of a Russian gymnast. And not in a good way.
After the pleasantries were dispensed with (I think her name was Olga or it might have been Sharon, its a bit hazy) we got down to the nitty-gritty of talking lap-dances.
Now usually in a strip club, as a paying customer, you have the choice of who dances for you. Not us as it seemed there was only one stripper working. Poor selection if you ask me. She didn’t hang around long once my friend pointed out that she would not be talking to us if it was neither dead or she had a body we'd pay money to see.
Then to cap it all off, the place closed early, which to be honest, us, the one stripper and Stephen Hawking on the door, were all glad our ordeal had come to end.
Needless to say, I shall not being going back there.
Chrissy B
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