Sunday, November 15, 2009

Iceland 2006

I made it to Iceland before the nationwide crash, although I was there to witness the micro-crash--the caving in of my club. The misfortunes of 'Club B'Iceland's First Stripclub were heralded by the arrival of two burly thugs who marched in a few hours into a Thursday night, spat out something incomprehensible, sent the manager running away and forced the club to a halt.

"Get out of here" the house mom insisted, sensing violence.

She took Chantal and I--the only two dancers she liked--for a drive through Reykjavik, ending at a different club, where she advised we might think about working. I never asked who the thugs were and why they had chased us out of Club B. It didn't really matter. It closed soon after.

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