whitman's mind...

From The Hangover BlogFile:
December 7 2006 • Paris Texas • Baby Dolls

So we did a show last night at a joint called the Vault in Paris Texas, and the audience loved us enough to take us to the local strip club, which they repeatedly mentioned was the worst, most disgusting strip club on earth (we’ve been to worse)… a joint called Baby Dolls.

So logically we took the car back to the hotel and hopped into a new car full of strange drunks to go to the strip club. Duh.

Texas, or at least Paris Texas, has strange rules. Strip clubs that include full nudity are not allowed to sell alcohol, only the souls of desperate young girls. Luckily you can bring your own booze with you! So we had to buy all the alcohol we wanted to drink before getting to the strip club, and then take it in with us. It makes sense when you think about it….wait. No it does not.

So, after a drunken ride, and much drinking in the car we end up at Baby Dolls, a run down pussy pawn shop with no DJ, a huge lesbian bull dyke bouncer, and the best priced gonorrhea laden lap dances in town. The dancers were required to purchase the songs they want on the juke box.

Somehow we hustle our way in the door with at least three people younger than 21.

Another interesting rule here is that kids 18 and up could come into the joint, just not drink….So somehow a couple of underage girls ended up with us. Naturally our party continually bought them lap dances against there will.

There was at least a good 12 of us there, drinking hard and having a generally good time. I got four separate talks from four different people, none of whom I am sure was actually employed by the joint, all of them telling me not to take pictures, or to get permission to take pictures, ect. All of these talks happened at least ten minutes after I had already stopped taking pictures (all of which were consensual), still I was in a good mood, and the evening went generally well, or so I thought.

As we were leaving something, no one has any idea what, happened. Suddenly a fight broke out in front of the joint, which seemed to somehow involve a large number of members of our rag tag band of drunken vaginal connoisseurs. We immediately attempted a hasty retreat, but to no avail.

Richie had the misfortune of walking past an angry, short, hobbit like, fat girl/bitch bartender/manager who decided to toss a knee into his skull a couple of times for no reason at all.

I quickly swooped in to pick Richie up, and the cunt southern bell then tossed a shot across his left eye, again for no fucking reason. Scot and Jeremy talked her down, and started marching into the fields next to the club with Richie to avoid a mounting police presence. All of us tend not to like authority figures. Especially when drunk. Plus, it seems that lately cops nation wide have had a tenancy to gun citizens purely for kicks.

A half mile into the field Richie, who suffered from an obviously severe concussion, decided he wanted to file a complaint with the cops, so we turned around and marched back to the strip club.

The pigs officers on the scene were the most useless, body proud ass holes ever to wear a badge. Instead of being concerned with what happened, were purely out to cover their own asses and make sure the crab infested strip club didn’t catch any heat. Once they determined Richie didn’t want an ambulance (which he obviously needed) they wanted nothing to do with him, and when he persisted in his attempt to press charges, they dropped bracelets and tossed him into the back of a squad car.

After a good deal of negotiations, ending with the cops taking all our names and birthdays, and bestowing upon us a collection of not so subtle hints to get the fuck out of town….the pigs decided to let Richie go, and put us back into the rig we came in despite the obvious intoxication of every single member of our party. We returned to the hotel with what was left of our friends, who were rolling light because one of them had decided enough was enough and broken a bouncers jaw. Good for him.

Once we arrived back at the hotel we decided to make a call to the local police non-emergency number and file a complaint with the police department, for negligence, abuse of power, ect.

The problem with punishing cops is that you have to go through cops to do so. Nothing came of it aside from a half hour lecture and more threats….more hints to leave town, and a note that we should frequent better strip clubs. Thank god for the blue wall.

The funniest moment of the whole night was when the cops, after determining they had vastly exceeding their authority, let Richie go and told him “I don’t know how your cops deal with this kind of stuff back home….” To which Richie responded “They shoot black people.” The cops, who were bigoted fat donuts eating cunts had to struggle not to laugh. Racist pricks.

Fuck the those police.

Links:

• Richie’s blog about the event
• Reviews of Baby Dolls