The search for Strip Club Nirvana
By: Don Smith

Thank you for checking another semen-stained edition of club to club. What a month is has been for me too! In addition to my usual repertoire of drinking, writing, music production, Dj-ing and strip club hopping, I have been spending increasingly way too much time staring at shitty video games. You know, the old games that anybody with an attention span, sense of taste, or self-awareness would shy away from. Yeah, I certainly live the life of a fucking rock star. My monthly regimen includes the following: Blue balls, Internet and other assorted computer bullshit, more private dance inspired blue balls, drunken nights of incessant ranting and now, 8-bit Nintendo games. Call up fucking Jani Lane from Warrant and let him know of the new kid on the block. I hated Warrant for the record although, I can see the skepticism you may have given the fact that I used the singer's name. What can I say?

Okay, for good measure I am going to discuss briefly, as there is a review that I must stumble into at some point, my deep resentment and disgust for 80's hair bands. If I could have one wish (well maybe two but I ain't gettin' no hot ass stripper "wifey" anytime soon) it would be for the following bands and individuals to be destroyed: Ratt, Poison (especially CC Deville), Slaughter, The Scorpions, Extreme, Cinderella, Brittany Fox (my lord were they horrible), W.A.S.P., "Maiden", Nelson, Trixter, Firehouse, Mr. Big, Winger (I want them all chain-sawed in half), L.A guns, Guns and Roses, " Motley", anything involving Ronnie James Dio, Twisted Sister minus the singer (he's cool but he must promise never to even whisper another overly-contrived teen angst anthem again because I ain't gonna' take it),Judas Priest, Quiet Riot ( including Randy Rhoads, sorry Ozzy but I can't take another shitty solo or teary eyed interview), Ricky Rachtman ( doesn't he sell cars now or manage a convenient store somewhere in Marin county?) and the rest of the entire cast of MTV circa 1986 through 1990-ish minus Kevin Seal ( I liked him. Call me a fucking douche-bag but he was funny. I like slap stick but ironically despise any British attempt at humor. Go figure?), and anybody else that I've missed for the sake of time (and I have left quite a few of you out. So, Whitesnake keep the hard-ons to a minimum.) Here's why I hate 80's hair bands: When aqua net hairspray is more of a business decision than song quality, or for that matter overall taste, there is a problem. Plus too, the first time that I saw Nelson I got half a chub because I thought they were fucking chicks. Maybe I harbor resentment due my inadvertent (yes I said inadvertent) homoerotic experience? I confused them with some Lita Ford super-group. As my grandmother succinctly put it "back in the day": " They look like god damn queers with the long-hair, tight pants, and make-up." Amen. Grandma, despite the fact that you now poop your pants and have no urinary control to speak (a "problem" that would render her opinion invalid to some) I still love you and cherish the sentiments you shared with me.

The preceding needed to be said. And I need to start talking about a strip club of some kind, which is what the editor (apologies Jack) hired me to do. The destination this month is the Foxy Lady in Providence, Rhode Island. I like to conduct my observations incognito, well, sort of. If you consider telling 350 strippers that I work for an online magazine in the hope of getting oral sex (thanks again Jack for the job) incognito then we are on the same page. Anyway, I try to keep my identity a secret by asking very non-specific questions. So here's some basic information that I received via reconnaissance:

· The Foxy Lady in Providence, Rhode Island boasts over 200 dancers on the roster.

· The club is a multi-level experience with a topless room upstairs and a nude room downstairs.
· Downstairs you can't help but notice a boxing ring, which is used for the famed " Foxy Boxing", a novel ideal that involves years of pent-up female inequity being unleashed on intoxicated customers that just fondled things they maybe shouldn't have.
· The club offers a $20 dollar full contact dance; massage girls, food, drink, and music with a live DJ and about 20-40 beautiful dancers working every shift.
· The club also offers a valet parking service.

Here's what I liked:

Overall, the club was clean and well maintained. That is important to me based on one simple fact; I like to know that my feet aren't going to stick to the floor. The club also was very well organized from a customer service standpoint. I had a waitress almost instantly and my drink order appeared almost as fast despite a rather large crowd. I felt secure too because the bouncers seemed to have a presence but didn't get in the way of a good time. Hell, they were even friendly too and could interact on a human level and not just in grunts and pointing. The food was good. The lighting was more than sufficient and not overbearing during my stay. The DJ played a good mix of music and had a definite understanding about the mechanics of DJ-ing. That is, he knew how to project his voice correctly, post messages without stomping lyrics, his mixing techniques were strong, and most importantly, knew when to speak and when not to. Less is more!

As for the dancers, one-word: Stellar. Overall, the dancers were very attractive. The fact that they seemed to be friendly and put the "stripper-game" on the back burner was a plus. Most of the dancers look as if they workout regularly, which is quite possibly the biggest turn-on for me when I go to a club. Let's face it F.U.P.A., also known to some as fat-upper-pussy-area, is just not attractive. Not to mention, dancers make more than enough money and have way too much free time not to hit a gym. Even the massage girls and waitresses (minus a few sore-thumbs) were attractive and in-shape. By and large, you'd have to be to wear the uniform alone; a g-string, stockings, a bra, and high-heels just don't work with all women by default unfortunately.

Here's what I didn't like:

In theory, Providence Rhode Island should only be about 30 minutes from my apartment in Massachusetts. However, we may have Fmr. Mayor Buddy Cianci to blame for this, the highway system is a huge headache. In other words, despite the directions I got via cell-phone I was lost. But, once I got acclimated and stopped swearing incessantly the club was easily found. Thanks Buddy! The admission guy needs to get some people skills too. This guy is just rude and has little tolerance for first-timer questions. Pack for a good time though by bringing A LOT of money as the club can get rather pricey quickly. Also, stay away from the Foxy dollars too if you know what's good for you! Some of the massage girls appeared to be slightly pushy at times but, isn't that the nature of any gentleman's club?

Overall, my trip to the Foxy Lady in Providence was fun and I shared quite a few laughs and drinks with the many dancers that seemed to gravitate toward my table. Now it could be that the dancers actually respected and enjoyed my company OR their interest could be due to a friends' level of intoxication and the insane amount of money spent on private dances. Thankfully, I drove home. A trip to the Foxy Lady is by far a good idea any Friday or Saturday night so this columnist would rate the club: 8 out of 10. Check out the Foxy's website at: for more details on planning your night out.

Next month, in an attempt to bring you more "quality entertainment", we'll hit another exotic location full of women, drink and music, how's that sound now? I'll have to do some driving though because we'll be checking out the King's Inn up all the way down in beautiful Dartmouth, Massachusetts. Check out the column and find whether or not you should make the trip yourself. Until then, be good…

Don Smith is the founder of, a weekly online magazine devoted to underground genres of music and non-traditional journalism he is also a DJ, producer and writer. Don enjoys blaming all of his problems on those around him; it is no wonder that his father sees him as a mentally inferior, timid little man.


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