Palomino Club, North Las Vegas: still full nude with booze

Palomino, North  Las Vegas
Palomino, North Las Vegas

Club Review: Palomino, NLV

by High Plains Hipster

So I’m in Las Vegas and was at the legendary Palomino Club earlier today at 6 pm. It was my first time there. I’d found it on TUSCL last month and saw it was nude with alcohol (edit: two days later I don’t recall seeing if they had hard liquor as that’s not my usual request but they did have a full ice cabinet of beers). I’m always planning another Vegas road trip so I called the bar from my city in Southern California. Some low-bass voiced dude answered and confirmed they were indeed serving alcohol. He sounded suspicious at first when I asked if they were full nude but when I told him where I was traveling from he knew it was a novelty for me so he mellowed and said, “We’re the only one, we’re grandfathered in.”

I’d found an actual legacy bar from before the laws changed concerning nude entertainment. So here I was, at the only full nude stripper bar in the Southwest US that I know of, and I’m the only customer in the place. No doorman checked my id, no one asked me to pay a cover. I wandered down the hall alone and turned left, where I found the bar, happy to see a couple of ladies sitting at it. They’d just opened it looked like, and as my eyes adjusted from the sunlight outside I counted 6 or 7 girls plus one friendly brunette female bartender. I have this weird time travel fantasy that I’ll never fulfill where I go back to the mid-1970’s in California and bar hop the nude stripper bars there before they shut down or give up their liquor licenses. The girls will all have tan lines and full hairy muffs and gas will be 60 cents a gallon. What’s Vegas about if not helping you attain unattainable fantasies?

I ordered a glass of Blue Moon on draft for $8 (plus a $2 tip for the bartender) and the girls were friendly and attractive. Very attentive too, as it was early on a Monday and I was the only mark there. Two hot young sexies (both blonde-ish if I can recall in that light) were sitting at the bar and made me right away for a Vegas tourist. As I was ordering a beer one asked me where I was from. I told her and she asked me what I was doing in Vegas. I thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know.” I simply wanted to avoid briefly going into ponderous detail but they both laughed. The other one said, “That’s what most people are doing when they come to Vegas,” or something topical like that.

Erin came by and asked me for a dance first. At least I think that was her name. I better type it here before I totally forget. We talked for a while about the usual, where I was from, what I did for work, how long she’d been dancing there. She had no plans of attending EDC (which is on now) because she’s not into techno at ALL, instead likes rock and hiphop — this white girl was way more into hiphop, it seemed. Out of curiosity I pumped her for what you can get in the privates. She told me the deal but when I asked her about the $20 dances she said those were only topless and no two-way. In the private dances it was full nude and touching was two-way. You can touch anywhere but ‘down there’ except for a ‘drive-by’, she laughed. I asked what a drive-by was and she gestured with her hand over her crotchal area and laughed again, adding “You just can’t…” she chuckled, letting her explanation trail off so as to not explicitly describe heavy petting or finger banging.

I told her I only came in for a beer and to check the place out, that I’d heard about the Palomino from TUSCL. I asked her if she knew about the site. She didn’t and yes she wanted to see it. I logged in on my phone and as we read a review of the place she worked at she seemed appreciative. In the light of my handset I caught a closer look at her pretty face and saw her perfectly drawn eyebrows. I also noticed what looked like maybe a small cold-sore healing up on her lip. After she got turned down by me and began to leave she was graceful and told me to prepare for lots flyby requests, saying I’d be “assaulted by other dancers” for the same thing. She wasn’t wrong; right after she left the seat a tall blonde Nina Hartley 1999 lookalike sauntered over and made her pitch.

Side note: there had been a tense but slightly funny moment earlier when Erin and Nina Hartley 1999 engaged in a small wordless battle to see who’d get first crack at me. Petite Erin won although tall Nina was closer to me at the bar and almost in my neighboring stool. Erin had tried a few moments before to wave me over to her table closer to the stage, and was now moving in sharklike, so she had priority. Stripclub diplomacy among dancers makes for smooth sailing.

Nina was a pro who said she’d worked there for 23 years. You could see the miles on her face but her body looked good and lean. I have to admit I felt the pull as she told me about how fun the privates were and gave me a casual one handed massage on my shoulder. The $20 dances were just a tease, she said. The real fun is upstairs in the privates, 3 for $100. I waited and thought about it. I was enjoying her hand working my shoulder, but then finally said, “No I’m just going to have my beer.” She almost snapped to attention, said okay as her smile vanished and immediately walked back to her chair.

By this time another customer had come to the bar, a young happy/chatty hipster dude with a twangy drawl. So I finished my beer and left the girls in his company. I think I might definitely be back on a night when they’re busier. The girls looked good, more aggressive than I prefer, but I’d like to see what kind of show they can put on at this anachronistic one-of-a-kind venue.

Corner Of Porn & Erotica

San Diego’s Diminishing Erotic Entertainment Supply Just Got Lower.

by Les

I was admiring the adult coloring book art taped up on the hallway wall board in Les Girls stripclub last night. Hadn’t been there in a while and experienced mixed feelings about my visit. I used to venture in there on rare occasions in the late 1980’s, then again in 1990, and the prices hadn’t seem to have changed with the economy: $10 door charge; 75-cent soft drinks (in cans); $10 one-song lap dances in the curtained booths and $30 three-song private dances in the rooms in back. The seediness of the decor was refreshingly identical to what I remember, if at the same time a bit depressing. Until 1992 when the large billboard signs were removed from over the roof outside with their 1960’s psychedelic font lettering saying “LOVE-In” this club was a true time capsule of flower power counterculture nostalgia. But all things change eventually.

I’ve had the urge to revisit this place for a while so I stopped by last night around 7:30, which turns out was early as it doesn’t open till 9. Les Girls is on the corner of Hancock and Riley in Point Loma, facing Hancock Street, as it has since it first opened its doors in 1969. Next to it sharing its parking lot there’s an adult “bookstore” that sells porn dvds and sex aids. I went in to the bookstore to ask when Les Girls opens, suspecting something might be amiss because The Body Shop, a nude juice bar next door on Hancock, looked dark too. The wall racks of the store were more than half empty of merchandise. Usually in a place like this there’s all the latest dildos, cock rings, dvds, and other accouterments of fet-life hanging up for customers. But not now. The store looked in the midst of a going-out-of-business sale, without signs advertising it. I got the opening time for Les Girls from the little Hispanic cutie at the counter and also asked her what was going on.

“One of the owners just passed away,” she said about the bookstore. “So they haven’t restocked in several weeks.”

I asked if they were going to sell or something. She replied that, no, “They’re just going through the paperwork.”

Later on this was confirmed by the door woman at the window inside Les Girls: “They’re probably just waiting for the will to be read.”

I also asked the adult bookstore counter girl about the door time for The Body Shop and she immediately said with a bit of intensity “they won’t open at all any more.”

“Oh, what happened?”

She softened, “They’re going through construction,” and looked away.

“For how long?”

“It’s been several months,” she said.

Later, inside Les Girls, they had a steering wheel tied to the ceiling above center-stage for the dancers to hang onto, one pole also center stage in back, and a couch set into the wall behind the stage in an alcove with a mirror in back that’s at a slightly downward pointing angle so if you’re directly in the front you can see yourself reflected in it. The girls make use of this a lot I noticed, keeping an eye on the customers as they do floor-work dance facing away from the crowd at a low angle. Everything seems to be in some shade of red, pretty much just as I remembered it. There used to be rows of theater benches, if I recall from 25 or 30 years ago, but they’ve been replaced by mostly bare tile with cheap desk or cafeteria chairs.

Les Girls is open until 2 so I used the in-ad-out policy for a quick trip around the corner a couple of times to get little 5-oz beers at Modern Times brewery who closes at 12:30. Unless you’re 20 years-old watching these girls do their thing can be so much easier with a little bit of alcohol in you.

One of the dancers, a redhead called Kitty, had a couple of parody adult coloring book pages that she’s filled in taped up in the hallway that is used to get back into the “Specials” 3-song dance rooms, if you ever wanted to see what Tinkerbell and Alice In Wonderland looked like as strippers. I asked the counter lady how long they’d been there and if I could take photos of them. She told me “about a year” and then got Kitty to agree to cellphone photos of the display.

Kitty seemed pretty friendly. She was dressed like she was ready to go out and was talking to a couple of guys in the front area by the vending machines, asking them if they’d be going to Spin, an outside fetish club that was happening at the end of the month. They appeared to be friends of hers because she asked one of them what he wanted for his birthday coming up.

“Do you really want to know?,” he asked. They all laughed.

“I mean food-wise!,” she chided.

Despite the small crowd and minimal dancer staff the atmosphere here was good. There was even a group of three young hipsters — two girls with one guy — that were in the theater tipping the dancers. Used to be you’d only see dudes in San Diego strip clubs, so maybe that’s changing.

I debated getting a $10 lap dance but eventually decided that I’d maybe do that next time. Before leaving I spoke to the window lady at Les Girls again and she said The Body Shop closed without warning on December 1. “It was news to us,” she said. “The original owner died 4 or 5 years ago and left it to the managers and they decided they didn’t want to do it any more,’ she said.

I asked her about what’s going to happen the venue now.

“They’re trying to rent it out or something,” she said.

“All three of these places (The Body Shop, Les girls, and the adjoined adult bookstore) were all owned by the same group of friends since the beginning… in 1969,” she said.

I remarked about the diminishing amount of adult cabarets left in San Diego, down to a handful from its peak in the mid-to-late 1970’s. She was older than the dancers but not as old as me, so I assumed she’d know.

“There used to be a big sign on the roof that said ‘LOVE-In’,” I said. “Remember that?”

“Oh yeah.”

Street view of Les Girls cabaret beside the adult bookstore and what's left of The Body Shop behind it.
Street view of Les Girls cabaret beside the adult bookstore and what’s left of The Body Shop behind it.
Alice enjoying Wonderland.
Alice enjoying Wonderland.
Tinkerbell the dancer.
Tinkerbell the dancer.
Les Girls' drinks are still 75 cents.
Les Girls’ drinks are still 75 cents.
Les Girls with The Body Shop sign visible behind it over the roof.
Les Girls with The Body Shop sign visible behind it over the roof.