Bump and (Slow) Grind

Flew into Vegas last night, arriving a little before 8 (or a little before 11, according to my body.) Ordered room service and watched the season premiere of Lost (didn't expect to see him again...at least not so soon). Then...at 10 (or 1 a.m., my time) I went out for drinks with some coworkers and other industry folks. After some gin and some margaritas, most everyone called it a night -- except me and Wild Turkey (the co-worker, not the drink). We headed off to Mandalay Bay to see a burlesque show at Ivan Kane's Forty Deuce.

Overall, it was kinda disappointing. I was hoping for some old-time dixieland combo with the Burly-Q (sort of like the photo at left), but instead it was a rock band called Royal Jelly. (I should have checked the listings better -- Thursday was specifically the "rock & roll burlesque," so I should have known.) So instead of the dancing to the old-time stripper music I learned to play in 6th grade (seriously -- I had a trombone solo of "Basin Street Blues," possibly the stripperiest of stripper songs ever), we got to see a girl dance to "Girls Girls Girls" and "Once Bitten, Twice Shy." She was a good dancer, and fun to watch, no question. But the music was kind of a let-down, since you can hear Crue in almost any strip club in America. At least is wasn't "Pour Some Sugar On Me," which The Daily Show called "the National Anthem of Stripclubistan."

But the thing that really killed the night was the pace. We got there just as the band was leaving the stage. The bartenders took down a platform they were using to perform. Then... leisurely... they installed a pole on the bar. Then, after a bit of a wait, the dancer came out and dance to her two songs. More dancing than stripping, she was dressed sexy from the start and stayed that way, just losing a ripped teeshirt along the way, revealing a spangly bra. And then she left the stage.

And then we waited.

And waited.

And then the bartenders took the pole down.

And then we waited some more.

And more.

Had another beer.

People-watched. There was a redhead in the corner who looked like the insanely lovely Kari Byron from Mythbusters. No dice, though.

The bartenders put the platform back, checked some attached lights.

And we waited.

I asked a bartender, and he assured me that there'd be more dancing.

So we waited.

The guitarist came out.

Then the drummer.

Then the bassist.

The did a bit of a sound check.

And then they started playing Aerosmith's "Walk This Way." It was kind of a reverse karaoke -- they were playing their instruments, but they were piping in Steven Tyler's vocal track. And then the dancers came out, dressed nearly identically in zippered, brightly colored sexiness. And it was SPECTACULAR. They were all good dancers, having a blast onstage, and eventually the topclothes came off, revealing hotpants with hearts on them and (frankly kinda weird) wiry bra-type things. There was wild applause as they left the stage before the song finished. Then the band wrapped up the song, getting some more applause (but a little less hearty).

And then they put their instruments down, and left the stage.

And the bartenders dismantled the platform.

And Wild Turkey and I left (without me even talking to "Kari" as I'd planned to. Totally chickened out there -- but what would the point be, anyway?).

One song. That was it.

Still, it was a decent club, and there was no cover, and we had a good time. And it wasn't a strip club or anything, with the lapdances and dollar-by-dollar stripper extortion. But it also wasn't the good time we'd planned on.

But man... pick up the pace. Respect the momentum.

Rob