While I was a student at the University of Florida, I’d drive by billboards around Gainesville advertising a white trashy stripclub/diner. And before I went all Caligula and started a strip club review blog, I’d joke with my boyfriend at the time about going there.
It ain’t a joke no more. Returning to Gainesville for some great goddamn Gators football, there’s no question that Sunday brunch will be at the Cafe.
Cover is $5, unless you’re a lady (which my friends assured the owner I was not…discount still applied.) Food is diner-priced. Decor is like that of any shitty southern greasy spoon, complete with nauseating fluorescent lighting. One thing about Cafe Risqué is unique, though…
…fully nude bitches inside an open cage of poles. It’s like a naked goddamn Waffle House.
The bitches are definitely of a North Central Florida caliber, but a few are cute. (And probably 18, and probably have three kids a piece.) I was contemplating a dance, but I could tell that the hottest girl was clearly not into chicks. And if I shell out for a dance, I expect superior service and extra attention.
I usually condemn clubs that don’t serve alcohol as abhorrent, but the Cafe gets a pass. And even I, a vegan of 16 years, can appreciate the delightful redneck novelty of finding fucking gator tail on a strip club menu.