Birmingham

Ani and I wanted another drink, a little after closing time.  We got in a taxi and asked the driver to take us to the Casino.  He asked which one and we sort of shrugged, not knowing Birmingham at all.  He went past one Casino and we thought, OK maybe he's trying to up his fare/ take us somewhere better/ more popular.  When he stopped, we seemed to be in front of a hotel.  A posh casino, maybe?  so we went in, ushered in by fairly friendly bouncers, towards a small desk.  £10 entrance fee.  Well this was unusual but, unsuspecting, we paid it and went in.

Ani said she realised immediately.  I didn't.  I had one glance at a shiny large "table" and wondered what kind of game it was, until I saw the pole extending straight up its middle.  Yes.  It was a strip club.  I realised why the discreet logo, Spearmint Rhino, had rung bells.  We had paid, so we stayed.  The decision seemed fairly simple.  We started in on Corona (A) and vodka (me).  I had a quick, polite vomit in the loos, then returned to my beverage.  As you do.  We watched the dancers: Fit, attractive, lithe bodies.  Mainly small boobs, though some were surprisingly upright.  We went to sit by the bar.  Better view and better access to drink.

I can say the following:

I have never before, and will probably never again, be offered a student discount on a lapdance.
I have never before, and certainly never will again, been in a position whereby a ludicrously rich man pays a stripper £180 to have myself and a friend in a booth, sharing a lapdance.
I doubt that I will ever have a lapdance again.

After the dance, and a pleasant chat with several strippers and a barmaid (all students), it was time to go.  The moneyed male offered to buy us champagne for the opportunity to "explore our bodies" with him at his home.  Of course, we declined.

The taxi driver who took us home was in stitches when we explained the bizarre situation.

I don't blame him.  I'm still smiling now.