Tales from the Strip...
Out of context: Reply #26
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- ghandolf0
So I was Dallas for a conference and we decide to hit the strip clubs. We head over to Northwest Blvd, and get out of the cab and start bar trollin'...
The first place was '2 fer 1' and dead. We drank the first one and bailed with the second one to the place across the street. At this place, they served been in a mug, so after I drank that, I filled it up again under the table, with the beer from the previous place I had stashed in my coat. When I turned to look around, there was a Texas Ranger watching me. When I looked again, he was standing right behind me. He ordered me to put my hands on the table where he could watch them, and stand up, "...real slow-like...".
I stood up and he said that we were going out the back door. I don't know where the back door was and just started walking. There were suddenly about 4 guys in suits who cut me off and pointed me toward a door that opened onto an alley out back. I walked out the door into the high beam headlights of three cars parked facing the door. I hear...
"FBI - put your hands on the wall and spread your legs!"
They frisk me, interrogate me, and ask me a bunch of questions. Eventually they figure out I'm not the 'droids they we're looking for' and they let me go. Turns out they're looking for this dude that's been seen in this bar before... he's murdered and mutilated 3 people in the Texas panhandle, and he's from Ohio. They knew when I got into town, and it turned out, the manager of the strip bar had called them. They had pictures of this guy, and except for the mustache (the oldest trick in the book) I was a dead ringer for this guy.
I go back in the bar, and now I'm the most interesting thing in there. I go up to tip the ladies, and they want to know who those guys were that took me out of the bar, what did they want, where did they go, what did I do, etc. This whole time they are asking me questions... I'm feeling them up, touching their ass, fondling them etc... and I can hear the DJ yelling in the background over the P.A system, "Please don't touch the dancers!" and "Please keep your hands to yourself when tipping the ladies!", etc.
I figure, if the Texas Rangers don't want me, and the FBI just let me go, I'm golden.
Eventually the manager came over to the table and apologized for callin' the Feds on me, and said we could drink for free the rest of the evening there.
I was stopped three times that weekend by the authorities looking for this guy.
Good times, good times....
- sorry TBO, this one wins7point34
- Not too shabby...TheBlueOne
- this story is awesome. but you fail for not getting a "happy ending" with a stripper.sublocked