I went in to Bucks today with $475 in my pocket. I forgot that I was wearing my invisibility cloak, though.
I had a waitress pounce on me just as I sat down. I ordered a Diet Coke. She asked if I needed any extra napkins. "Not yet," I said, and she got a good laugh out of that.
There were probably only two or three dancers that were VIP-worthy, anyway. One was Goldie; another was a petite blonde with nice legs, mid-back hair and a tattoo on her left arm. There were also two slender brunettes. (DJs here don't make it easy to pick up on names.) One looked pretty young; the other had short, curly hair. Just about everyone else was the kind of woman that makes you understand why this is called Cowtown.
I didn't see a lot of coming and going in VIP, and the northeast corner cabana remained uninhabited. After an hour, no one having approached me (hell, the waitress even gave me a carafe of Diet Coke so she wouldn't have to stop by anymore), I was pretty frustrated, and I had to leave anyway. That was when, finally, Goldie walked up to me, but, when I said I was just about to leave, she ran off like I'd said I had herpes.
I came home with $463 in my pocket. I should have stayed at work and gotten more done there. Next time, I'm going to be tempted to head to Dallas -- but I can't shake the fear of what happens of my car dies or I have an accident and have to explain what I was doing there.