** Aberdeen review
Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2007 9:47 pm
From the archives:
ooOOoo
The Fantasy Club, Aberdeen
There's no rest for the wicked. Even over the festive season, when thoughts are supposed to turn to things spiritual (or whatever), TaB research was still on the agenda. Admittedly, in this case, it was more of an off-shoot than a specific plan, but when a friend whom I was visiting said "Did you know we've got strip-clubs in Aberdeen?", it seemed churlish to refuse.
I was, indeed, frankly gobsmacked. Having gone to university there, Aberdeen is about the last place in the universe I'd have expected to take to the "sport" -- I can only imagine the local council doesn't actually know what a lap-dance is, and blithely permits it to go on under the assumption that (as per the cartoon on the front page), it's some kind of Scandinavian entertainment. It's not just Aberdeen though; the club in question also tours, bringing the joys of the naked female form to outlying areas like Fraserburgh and Elgin, situated at the shallow end of the gene pool, which make Aberdeen look like the cosmopolitan metropolis it definitely isn't. This missionary zeal can only be applauded.
I admit that I was a little concerned at going out in Aberdeen on a Saturday night. Even ten years ago, in my student days, it was a war zone, where eye contact was to be avoided at all costs (especially on one street, nicknamed 'Mutant Alley' by local taxi-drivers) and chronic alcoholism was less a health problem than a favoured pastime. Things were unlikely to have improved, although it has to be said that during the evening in the Fantasy Club, we only saw one brawl. And on the other hand, people are also much more friendly; we chatted to a Malaysian guy and some Norwegian oil workers, as well as locals. Extend the hand of friendship in Aberdeen, and it will either be grasped firmly, or ripped off at the wrist.
While there are at least two venues in Aberdeen, we only got to one, which my friend said was the better of the two. Admission to the Fantasy Club is a fiver; the local evening paper, the Evening Express has a coupon, which gets you in free before nine pm. Drinks are reasonable: a bottle of Beck's and a whisky cost 4.50. I was on the latter, having started the evening off visiting a cousin who a) is a connoisseur of heavy duty malts -- such as "The Manager's Dram", at 62% alcohol (who needs absinthe?), and b) pours drinks with a generous hand. Switching to beer seemed a distinctly dodgy proposition.
There is basically no show as such -- you want to see anything, you pay for it. There is a low stage with a pole, which is VERY sporadically occupied, and the artistes don't take their clothes off. Still, it does give you a chance to scope out the form generally. Instead, there are three price levels: five, ten and twenty pounds, the latter is offered only sporadically, and was never experienced. The major difference between the five and ten seems to be privacy: five takes places in a room with couches all round the outside, ten gets you a private booth. In terms of physical contact, our experience suggests you'd be hard pushed to tell them apart.
Ah, yes, contact. This seems to be left largely up to the individual dancer, hence the useful exchange of information between punters as to who does what and to whom. However, at its most up close and personal (Andrea from Bratislava), it was virtually indistinguishable from a full-blown, Vegas-style lap-dance. There were five girls on duty that evening, according to them, it was quieter than usual, no real surprise, since it was Boxing Day. Even so, by the end of the night, word of Andrea's talents had spread and she hardly left the booth before being re-cornered. Mind you, the others weren't idle either, nor were they much less enthusiastic, certainly delivering more contact than at any public venue in London. Quality wise, 5-8's -- it didn't harm Andrea's cause that she was towards the upper end!
Of the four girls I talked to, only one was even vaguely local, hailing from Dundee, the others being Canadian, Irish and Slovakian -- this was no surprise, Aberdeen never seemed to be a hot-bed of totty at the best of times, so importing them was an obvious necessity. In accordance with previously mentioned principles, they were not averse to the odd alcoholic beverage, notably more so than London artistes, many of whom will sip nothing stronger than mineral water. By the end of the evening, some of the Aberdeen babes were distinctly wobbly.
The pressure to buy dances is not great, but if you aren't going to bother, there's little point in going there. It thus works out quite an expensive evening, at least compared to a straightforward TaBout, though given what you get, it's by no means bad value for money. Should, God forbid, you find yourself in the forsaken part of the world known as North-East Scotland (a beautiful place to visit...but you do NOT want to live there!), you could do a great deal worse than invest your spending money at the Fantasy Club.
The Fantasy Club, Hadden St (off Market St). Open 7 days, 6pm-2am Friday, 4pm-2am, Saturday, rest of the week unknown.
[Not visited] Private Eyes, 74-78 Chapel St. 8pm-2am, 7 days.
ooOOoo
The Fantasy Club, Aberdeen
There's no rest for the wicked. Even over the festive season, when thoughts are supposed to turn to things spiritual (or whatever), TaB research was still on the agenda. Admittedly, in this case, it was more of an off-shoot than a specific plan, but when a friend whom I was visiting said "Did you know we've got strip-clubs in Aberdeen?", it seemed churlish to refuse.
I was, indeed, frankly gobsmacked. Having gone to university there, Aberdeen is about the last place in the universe I'd have expected to take to the "sport" -- I can only imagine the local council doesn't actually know what a lap-dance is, and blithely permits it to go on under the assumption that (as per the cartoon on the front page), it's some kind of Scandinavian entertainment. It's not just Aberdeen though; the club in question also tours, bringing the joys of the naked female form to outlying areas like Fraserburgh and Elgin, situated at the shallow end of the gene pool, which make Aberdeen look like the cosmopolitan metropolis it definitely isn't. This missionary zeal can only be applauded.
I admit that I was a little concerned at going out in Aberdeen on a Saturday night. Even ten years ago, in my student days, it was a war zone, where eye contact was to be avoided at all costs (especially on one street, nicknamed 'Mutant Alley' by local taxi-drivers) and chronic alcoholism was less a health problem than a favoured pastime. Things were unlikely to have improved, although it has to be said that during the evening in the Fantasy Club, we only saw one brawl. And on the other hand, people are also much more friendly; we chatted to a Malaysian guy and some Norwegian oil workers, as well as locals. Extend the hand of friendship in Aberdeen, and it will either be grasped firmly, or ripped off at the wrist.
While there are at least two venues in Aberdeen, we only got to one, which my friend said was the better of the two. Admission to the Fantasy Club is a fiver; the local evening paper, the Evening Express has a coupon, which gets you in free before nine pm. Drinks are reasonable: a bottle of Beck's and a whisky cost 4.50. I was on the latter, having started the evening off visiting a cousin who a) is a connoisseur of heavy duty malts -- such as "The Manager's Dram", at 62% alcohol (who needs absinthe?), and b) pours drinks with a generous hand. Switching to beer seemed a distinctly dodgy proposition.
There is basically no show as such -- you want to see anything, you pay for it. There is a low stage with a pole, which is VERY sporadically occupied, and the artistes don't take their clothes off. Still, it does give you a chance to scope out the form generally. Instead, there are three price levels: five, ten and twenty pounds, the latter is offered only sporadically, and was never experienced. The major difference between the five and ten seems to be privacy: five takes places in a room with couches all round the outside, ten gets you a private booth. In terms of physical contact, our experience suggests you'd be hard pushed to tell them apart.
Ah, yes, contact. This seems to be left largely up to the individual dancer, hence the useful exchange of information between punters as to who does what and to whom. However, at its most up close and personal (Andrea from Bratislava), it was virtually indistinguishable from a full-blown, Vegas-style lap-dance. There were five girls on duty that evening, according to them, it was quieter than usual, no real surprise, since it was Boxing Day. Even so, by the end of the night, word of Andrea's talents had spread and she hardly left the booth before being re-cornered. Mind you, the others weren't idle either, nor were they much less enthusiastic, certainly delivering more contact than at any public venue in London. Quality wise, 5-8's -- it didn't harm Andrea's cause that she was towards the upper end!
Of the four girls I talked to, only one was even vaguely local, hailing from Dundee, the others being Canadian, Irish and Slovakian -- this was no surprise, Aberdeen never seemed to be a hot-bed of totty at the best of times, so importing them was an obvious necessity. In accordance with previously mentioned principles, they were not averse to the odd alcoholic beverage, notably more so than London artistes, many of whom will sip nothing stronger than mineral water. By the end of the evening, some of the Aberdeen babes were distinctly wobbly.
The pressure to buy dances is not great, but if you aren't going to bother, there's little point in going there. It thus works out quite an expensive evening, at least compared to a straightforward TaBout, though given what you get, it's by no means bad value for money. Should, God forbid, you find yourself in the forsaken part of the world known as North-East Scotland (a beautiful place to visit...but you do NOT want to live there!), you could do a great deal worse than invest your spending money at the Fantasy Club.
The Fantasy Club, Hadden St (off Market St). Open 7 days, 6pm-2am Friday, 4pm-2am, Saturday, rest of the week unknown.
[Not visited] Private Eyes, 74-78 Chapel St. 8pm-2am, 7 days.
Jim]. We also get regular stag groups in as it sets them up for the night also some visiting football supporters come before going to the match. All girls are supplied by Models Agency, Dundee who supply table dancers, exotic dancers, kissagrams & glamour all over the UK. Their web site is