I don’t particularly care for Philadelphia. It’s basically mini-New York…what’s the fucking point? Possibly the one area in which Philly supercedes NYC is in the seedy strip club department.
Gold Club is literally some back alley shit, right in the middle of Center City.
The manager is old school as fuck, from his white blazer to his habit of letting girls fuck him for quality shifts. There’s no back door, so when bitches come in for work, they lug their tote bags and Big Gulps right through the floor. The place is tiny and fairly empty, which creates a high-pressure sales situation when bitches are done dancing. One particularly classy broad approached me, stuck her hand in her panties, and asked me to “feed her kitty cat.” I mean, I did, but it wasn’t the least bit arousing.
Like the rest of Philly, this place is kind of stuck in the 90’s…lots of hair metal.
Dances in semi-private cubbies go for $20. Private room dances go for $40. $60 for a HJ…not that I would know.