The brothel...

This story is old, but totally worth telling! It came up the other day, and I decided I must share.
My friend "J" used to live in Tucson and while she was there, she became totally obsessed with this band (and it's lead singer). So, every once in awile they come to the Valley to play a show and everytime they do, she drags me to them with her... promising this is the time she is actually going to talk to the singer!!! (In truth, she only drug me to the first show. I really like the band now and enjoy going to the shows) Anyway, so one day she told me they were playing a show in Tempe on Saturday night and asked me if I wanted to go. I of course said yes and asked where (I lived and drank in Tempe for 9 years, I figure there are not too many bars I haven't been too, although I may not remember them all!!!) She told me the name of the bar and surprisingly I had never heard of it. Then she told me where it was and I couldn't even picture where a bar would be there. But whatever, we were in. So we decide to meet at this bar. First of all, it's in the middle of a warehouse district. I mean, you drive down a road, lined with warehouse businesses... when all of a sudden this two story building with music blaring and white lights in the trees appears. We figured this must be it... and parked. As we walked up to the building, I got a very wierd feeling... (Note to all: listen to your gut... it is always right!) But we continued on, up the wooden stairs to the second story patio area where we entered another world. There was this large outdoor bar, made of concrete. On top of it were several scantily clad (think stripper-like) women, dancing, for money, which was being cleverly placed in their g-strings. J and I made our way through the patio, thinking that was obviously not where we belonged. We went through a heavy black door... into what looked kind of like a house.. only if your house was dark and creepy. There was a tiny bar with a couple of stools and a little area where some hard rock band was playing. I mean four feet away from me the lead singer was screaming his song... and thrashing his head around so his sweat was actually hitting me. I wanted to bail but instead we sat down at the small bar and ordered drinks. (Well, J ordered a drink, unfortunately at this point in my life I couldn't drink which just made this all the more painful) As we looked around at the eccletic group of people and wondered where the hell were we, we saw a spiral staircase. A staircase that apparently took us downstairs to the area where our band was going to play. Soon I realized that was the only way up and down. And I watched time and time again, as someone would have to back up to let someone up the one-person-at-a-time metal staircase. As J was yelling over the horrible rock band to have some sort of conversation, I realized where we were... The Hotel California... "You can check out, but you can't ever leave." That's when J told me we needed to go outside so she could smoke. We went out to the patio and took a spot in the corner. We were standing there talking, J with her back to the crowd. I felt like almost every guy out there was looking at us (did I mention 90% of the people out there were men... duh? That's where the nearly-naked chicks dancing on the bar were) I blew it off, believing they were looking beyond us, to the dancing ladies. After J's smoke, we went back inside and she asked if I was ready to go downstairs. At this point I freaked out. The Hotel California got the best of me. I actually started to have a panic attack and had to take a Xanax to get through it. After a couple minutes of coaxing, J convinced me it was time to tackle the stairs. So after careful timing... we went down. There we found yet another bar... a big room that apparently our band would play in.. a hall leading to a living room-like area that no one was in... another hall with a bathroom and several closed doors... but that wasn't the wierd part. First, there was this door with a keypad on it. People kept going in and out, first entering some code before the door would unlock and allow them in. Then there was an area with a velvet rope and a bodyguard in a suit. Young women and some guys were going in and out... only after first meeting the bouncer's approval. We fell into a conversation with a couple of people who happened to be waiting for the same band we were, which is how we learned what was behind the velvet rope. Apparently the guy had asked the bodyguard who told him there was a hot tub back there... and that "what happens back there, stays back there" WTF... where the hell were we? At this point, J tells me she needs another smoke, which requires another treck up the staircase from hell... and into stripper city. I'm ready to kill her, but I don't dare be left alone in this crazy place... so I go. As I'm up there this time, I see two of the "ladies" I had seen exit the velvet room, now "working the crowd" on the patio, going from group of guys, to group of guys. I start to wonder if they aren't prostitutes... or something like that. Then I realize guys really are staring at J and I, probably wondering if we are in the same "line of work". J finishes her smoke and we go back down into the depths of hell. Now, finally it is time for our band to play. We go into the room with about 10 other people. (Apparently our music choice isn't really popular with the hookers... good to know) The band starts to play, sounding as good as they always do. During their show, some people wander in. A way too young blonde, with an old guy. Another guy who wanders up to them, pulls the girl away for a minute or two... before sending her back to grandpa (can you say "pimp") The show is great, but short and as soon as it is over, we are ready to try to make our escape from the Hotel California. We leave in one piece, but I don't think we will ever be the same. J and I both agree that it is an experience that we could try to explain, but if you were not there, you will just never understand. (I hope my description has given you some mental picture) Later, my google-stalking friend finds several websites which say said bar is a cover for a brothel and that they film pornos there. And it all starts to make sense. Will I ever go back?? Hell no. But as they say, you never forget your first trip to a whore-house, right??