Welcome to Grim Yelp Reviews, a new regular feature where we share people's worst experiences at the worst places. This week: extremely disgruntled reviews of sex clubs, swingers clubs, dungeons, and the occasional strip joint.
Expectations for sex clubs tend to be very high and that, perhaps, is what lends itself to an abundance of disappointment. We noticed grim Yelp reviews of sex clubs tend to fall into a few distinct categories: complaints about the ambience of the club (smell, parking difficulties, "jizz stains"), complaints about other patrons (specifically, a lack of other customers the Yelper wanted to do sex to), and, finally, complaints that really sound more like a problem with the reviewer.
To protect the names of the innocent and not-so-innocent alike, we've redacted the names of the businesses, as well as the identities of the Yelpers who wrote the reviews. We realize you can probably find out all of that information by employing five seconds of Google magic.
Without further ado, some grimness:
First off, from a strip joint down south that sounds pretty exciting:
And a sex club somewhere in California:
If there was a hell for gay men, this place would be it. There must have been a discount for the ugliest scum [City] has, because it seemed they were all there that night. Very few people under 30. Most had faces swollen and pock marks on their skin. I don't think there was one single HIV negative person there that night. These guys didn't seem to care about their health either. Everyone looked sick or zombie like, as if high on meth or tina.
Another couple dissatisfied folks further south :
Heading back to our room to check the time, a VERY determined latino guy started pounding on our door and basically tried forcing his way in, and then followed us around like the goddamn predator for 20 minuets before we lost him by distracting him with all the dicks in Glory Hole Canyon.
And finally, an atmospheric complaint that does sound truly terrifying:
A.k.a., "Eau de Deadspin:"
Smell was awful. A mixture of the smell of jizz, pinesol, musty BO, and sweat.
This really seems like a serious lapse for any self-respecting sex club:
Only complaint they seemed a little under staff and stocked. They ran out of towel and condoms (oh shit) yea there were no comdoms [sic] around I had to ask keep asking the security guard lol...
This next one is a valid complaint, but what kind of jerk customer doesn't pick up their own used condoms?
Actually it was lame. Just a bunch of black dudes walking around trying to see some titties. There was one couple f-ing there but not the kind of people you want to see f-ing and since we were by far the best looking people in there (maybe ever) we felt "stalked".
Finally, a trolling gentleman who clearly needs some better hobbies:
I felt like I needed a full body hose down after setting foot in there, which I only did so I could yelp about it.
Oh also to find out how much it would cost to have a hooker sh_t on me. For sh_ts and giggles, and so I could impress others with an accurate price quote during pleasant after dinner conversations.
Anyways, I got there at 10 on a Thursday and asked the guy at the door if I could check it out before paying the cover and surprise, he let me. It's hugely poorly lit and was mostly empty, so I didn't see anyone having sex. No voyeuristic treats for me that night.
I did run into a stripper/crack whore in one corner who seemed awfully lonely. She was quietly sipping a beer. I asked her how much it would cost for her to sh_t on my chest while I jacked off and after a moment of eyeing me she replied "$200 for you sweetheart - we can use saran wrap if you want, they've got some up front".
So the relatively quick response horrified me for two reasons - one, she has evidently done that before, and two, she seemed ready to make it happen. I was sort of going for a shock reaction. But I ended up being the one flinching first, saying ah "ok fantastic let me just find the restroom first," and scampering away, tail between legs, eager to leave this dark dark pitch black corner of the [redacted] landscape behind me for good.
Grim! Until next time, please mop up your condums and protect your pusys.
Image by Jim Cooke.