Dear Fun Police…

To the Fun Police in the state of Tennessee:


I’ve been a resident of your lovely state for a little over three months. The people I’ve met and the restaurants I’ve visited have all been great. The drivers and the constant road construction are in a never ending struggle to see which can be worse, but that’s another letter for another day.

I’m dictating my grievances to you today because I’m terribly vexed about the conditions of your adult establishments. One birthday weekend, a group of friends and I found ourselves at one such establishment. I won’t mention the name of the establishment, but it shares its name with a Ginuwine song that probably should be a standard in that place. The outside greeter didn’t say much, but he wasn’t rude. I didn’t have a problem with the cover and two drink minimum initially because I had a beer in hand within a minute of walking in the door. The vexing issues began shortly after that.

The place was relatively clean looking, but it was a smoke box. I expected that. I don’t mind if the women are of a certain persuasion. Most of them were, but that’s of no concern to me. However, if I walk to into a place that has a logo with the phrase “strip club” on it, that’s what I expect to see. To my dismay, that was not happening…at all. With all due respect…


In order to see these women in various manners of undress, it required payment of amount that none of us deemed acceptable. One employee (we’ll call her Kitty Galore) stated that her rate to step behind the dingy velvet curtain was AT LEAST $75.00.   Those who “ponied” up the funds were escorted to a VIP area, but they didn’t seem to be gone for very long.

When presented with this disappointing news, we all decided to stick it out and at least get a good buzz. But when we looked behind the bar, there was only beer. Hard liquor was nowhere to be seen.   Unbeknownst to us, if you wanted to have anything other than beer or Smirnoff Ice, you were required to bring it. So not only is this place unhealthy for me due to the secondhand smoke, I CAN’T EVEN GET ANY CROWN?!?! THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!

We were crestfallen when we realized the gravity of the situation. What began as evening as fun and beautiful as “Saved by the Bell” Lark Voorhies quickly mutated into a night as grim and tragic as present-day Lark Voorhies. We decided to redeem our remaining drink tickets and leave for a last minute photo shoot. Upon leaving, a gentleman asked why we were leaving with such sad faces. We told him of our discoveries. His response: “Sheeiiit, I coulda told y’all that before y’all walked in.” WHY THE HELL ISN’T POSTED AT THE DOOR AT ALL TIMES?!?!? THAT IS VITAL INFORMATION!!!

Please see that your adult establishments are returned to the bosom-filled, liquor fueled sanctums of escape and fantasy that we all know and love. Failure to so will result in a great number of women in Atlanta, instead of those in Memphis or Nashville, getting financial support as they attempt to finish nursing school.






If you don’t believe me, please see the attached link! PLEASE SEE THE ATTACHED LINK!!!

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