Clogher’s New Lap Dancing Bar ‘Needs A Few Changes’, Admits Owner
The owner of a new lap dancing establishment in Clogher admitted after its opening night on Friday that it needs more work to make it a success.
The controversial ‘Eye Candy Gentlemen’s Club’, based in Main Street in Clogher, opened on Friday to considerable criticism from customers. Owner, manager, and borderline pervert Seasamh Mallon agreed that there were a number of issues that needed work, and in particular the two dancers employed by the club, one of which was Kitty McVeigh of Crossowen Road.
“Old Kitty did her best, bless her” said an apologetic Mallon. “She was up on the Eye Candy stage doing a nice wee slip jig, and all thon boys were chanting ‘get them out, get them out’, getting louder and angrier. To be fair to Kitty she obliged, but I don’t think she realised they weren’t talking about her teeth”. Matters took a turn for the worse as the men became more and more insistent. “It could have got ugly, I have to tell you”, said Mallon. “Them boys wanted flesh and weren’t leaving until they had got some. Thank god they calmed down a bit when Kitty eventually undid the top toggle of her duffel coat”.
A customer, who didn’t want to give his name said,
“It was dung. I knew something was dodgy when the sign said it 50p a dance, or 25p plus a bag of boiled sweets. And she had a face like a welder’s bench. ‘Eye Candy’? ‘Eye Cabbage’ more like”.
The club fared no better with the club’s other dancer, Peggy Hagan, of no fixed abode. Mallon commented,
“It was a bit of an eye-opener when she started dancing to Beyoncé’s ‘All The Single Ladies’, but it can’t be easy when you’ve just had both your hips replaced”. He continued, “The lads were starting to get into it but when she was unrolling one of her surgical stockings, her back went and she couldn’t straighten up. She’d have couped right off the front of the stage if she hadn’t been holding onto her zimmer frame”.
A furious customer who also asked not to be named, ranted,
“Feckin’ disgrace. I was expecting a clatter of young wemin, not a couple of feckin’ 70 year olds. I had taken along a big bag of 10 pence pieces and barely spent half of it. And if you ask me 50 feckin’ pence a feckin’ dance is a bit steep for the likes of me, especially when dues every Sunday are in decline. How do they expect a priest to be able to afford that sort of feckin’ money? And they didn’t even accept Nectar points. Feckers”.