The day of my twenty first birthday had finally arrived. I declined all suggestions of a major party thrown for me by my family and friends as I had my own plans to celebrate this milestone of life.It was something that I had been dreaming about since I was eighteen.

 I passed it everyday going to and from from work. It was a newer brick building located on one of the secondary roads set back about fifty feet from the road. The parking lot was new and it and the walkway to the front doors were well lit. The name of the club was done in blue neon and affixed to the front of the building. This was the Stage Door, a gentleman's club.

The meaning of a gentleman's club was quite clear to everyone at that time, this was a club that featured strippers. Nothing was visible through the double glass front doors save a wood wall, although occasionally you could see flashes of colored lights and strobes when someone entered or exited. I was told that the entrance was L shaped so nothing could be seen unless you entered.

The doors themselves were nothing special and the most prominent feature was the sign that said "YOU MUST BE 21 TO ENTER". Now the free nightclub industry newspapers that are prominent in restaurants, magazine shops and the clubs where those of us under the legal age gathered always featured a full page ad for The Stage Door.

 Images of stunning long legged woman wearing incredible high heels, opera gloves and next to nothing else were captured by the camera lens. The faces of these stunning ladies were frozen in provocative poses. Wide eyed and full lipsthey stared out from the page in an effort to entice new patrons. Well it worked, I was enticed.

 After supper and donning my newest suit (sans tie in an effort to look like the other males I had seen entering), I left my parents' house en route to my rendezvous. In my side pants pocket was over one hundred dollars in small bills and my wallet contained my driver's license that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was of legal age and entitled to enter. I pointed my car in the direction of the club.

Despite my casual saunter as I walked up to the front doors my heart was beating rapidly I thought I might have a heart attack. It increased upon pulling open the glass doors and stepping across the threshold and walking up to the bouncer / ID checker. He was a hulk of a man in tux that barely concealed the size of his chest, shoulders and arms.

"Ya gotta be 21 to enter, kid," he said in a practiced and bored speech.

I removed my drivers license and handed it to him. He took a great deal of time studying the face on it and the one before him before he handed it back to me.

"Happy Birthday," he said with a smile. I thanked him."That will be ten dollars," he added.

I handed over my cash and I was bade to enjoy myself. I was feeling like I finally made the jump from teenager to adult as my hand wasn't stamped as it was in the other clubs. I found an unoccupied table very close to the stage and sat down.

Then the most stunning waitress I had ever seen appeared at my table and asked if I wanted something from the bar. She was clad in a skin tight black mini-skirt revealing long and shapely legs covered in black nylon. A black tux shirt unbuttoned to the point that the top of her black bra was visible and was struggling to contain her ample chest.

I was so overwhelmed by her looks that I was tongue tied and any cute, flirty or sophisticated remarks that were stored in my memory failed me. I finally managed a strangled request for a beer.

"There is a two drink minimum," she crooned leaning into me and thus allowing me to whiff her intoxicating perfume and stare at her cleavage.

I managed another chocked response of acceptance and she moved slowly back to the bar allowing me a long and lingering look at her backside. She returned and set down an icy cold bottle, a glass and a red token for my second bottle when I finished the first one.

"That will be six dollars, sweetie," her velvet voice purred again. I gave her a ten and told her to keep the change.

 The house lights dimmed and a popular dance song came over the sound system as the curtains on stage parted revealing the first dancer of the evening. She stood there with her back to the audience and began to slowly move her hips to the drum beat.

She slowly turned around to reveal she was dressed in a makeshift secretary outfit of a jacket, short skirt and heels. She began to move around the stage and slowly removed her horn rim glasses and placed them in her jacket pocket before she unzipped her jacket to reveal to all that she only wore a black satin bra underneath.

The short tight skirt was unzipped and shimmied down to reveal a shimmering black satin garter belt holding up seamed nylons and a black satin panties. She continued to dance and prance around the stage until the song ended and the second song started.

She turned her back to the audience and she slowly reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She turned to face her adoring masses again as she continued to dance while holding the unfastened garment to her chest as she moved along the edge of the stage. Other patrons stood and slipped bills into her garter or the waistband of her panties.

She finally stood in front of me and shimmed down so that her crotch was facing me. I finally found the courage to ook at her face, she looked nothing like the advertisements I had seen. She wore way too much make up and looked old, pasty and bored. I slipped a dollar into her garter and she blew me a kiss before moving away. 

When she finally let the bra fall to the floor there was a loud and enthusiastic round of applause from the audience, I could only stare as I began to get the feeling I had been duped.

"She was the first dancer of the evening and maybe they got better as the evening progressed," I said to myself.

The next two dancers were about the same as the first with less dancing. Where were the ones from the pictures in the trade papers? The tall stunning blondes and brunettes with the looks and build of the Las Vegas showgirls I had seen? I left before I even finished my first beer and forgot about the second one still on ice.

I nodded to the bouncer on my way out and headed to my car.

"Leaving so soon?" a sultry voice issued from the minimal shadows.

I glanced around and there stood my stunning waitress enjoying the night air and a cigarette.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked again.

"Yeah."

"Not what you imagined it would be?"

"No"

"Let me guess, you just turned twenty one and decided to celebrate it here?"

"Yes today. Does it show?"

"Not as much as it does on others."

"Those pictures you've seen in the trades are purchased by the owners from less than reputable modeling agencies and are strictly a ploy to get new customers."

"That's a little dishonest."

"Yes it is, but this is a business whose goal is to make money and we need customers to do so."

"Now I feel stupid."

"Don't be. Wisdom came to you early before you went through all your cash or made a fool of yourself by attempting to pick one of them or a waitress up. Like we don't have lives or boyfriends outside of here and the fact that we have heard every pick up line in existence."

She crushed out her cigarette under her heel and approached me. She placed her arms around me and gave me a brief kiss on the lips.

"Happy Birthday," she said softly in my ear.

She took my hand and walked me to my car.

"Now you can't spoil it for the next one," she added as I unlocked my door.

"Excuse me."

"You can't tell anyone that it's a scam, they need to find out for themselves."

"Deal."

Later at Denny's I bumped into a few of my friends who questioned my experience.

"You got to see it to believe it," was my stock answer to them.

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