Superior Wisconsin and Duluth Minnesota are yet another "Twin City" hodgepodge separated by a long bridge over an estuary or bay. Clearly the town of Superior was named for the lake that abuts it and not for the sexual excitement it provides. Duluth should be spelled with two "L"s as in "Dull"uth.
I flew into Duluth on Wednesday late afternoon. Picked up the full size car I reserved which turned out to be a Voyager minivan. I drove downtown to a casino at 4th Avenue and Superior Street. Picture a Montgomery wards store with 1950's Christmas decorations. The place is small, way too bright and practically empty (other than bused in relics of the Pleistocene age). I went around the block to Wabusha Adult Books and Theater located at 1st Street and 3rd Avenue. That's right, the same person laid out both Manhattan and Duluth with numbered streets in one direction and numbered avenues in the other. Brilliant!.
Wabusha is your typical adult bookstore with a slight twist. When I walked in a 30 something blonde was on the customer side of the counter talking to the clerk. She was wearing a long, filmy black nightgown with an appropriately sleazy teddy beneath that was partially displayed. The room contained videos, mags, adult products yada yada yada. She said hello and then ignored me as I wandered around a little bit. Made my way down a hallway to find rows of video booths in a clean, very bright setting. Booths take dollar bills and if you are interested, did not not appear to have gloryholes or enough space for two people. they do have substantial wooden doors with latches on the inside. Once again, very clean in a Nordic kind of fashion. (It is Minnesota eh?).
The blonde approached me and asked me to slip into a booth that was one of five separated from the rest for a "preview". I did. The booth had a glass panel in front that looked onto a small bedroom setting/stage. She said close the door and I did. In a few seconds she appeared on the other side of the glass. She started a slow swaying dance like maneuver and said if I liked her I should put $5 in a slot under the glass. I did and asked her what if I liked her so much I wanted her to spend the night in my hotel room? She said she did not do such things nor did she think other girls at Wabusha. She did say some girls who are sometimes outside the Wabusha on the street may be accommodating. I made a mental note, passed her a $5 note and took my leave.
Later in the evening I went to the lamplighter bar in Superior on Tower Avenue. Titty bar with a small stage in a traditional mid-western shot and beer joint. $2 to get in which more amused me than pissed me off. One girl was great eye candy. She also loved to show her gratitude for every dollar tipped at the rail including simulated 69, crotch rubs, tits rubbed in the face etc. I also had a nice game of pool with anther gal on an "L" shaped pool table. First time I ever saw one. I bought her a drink while we played, me in jeans and light polartec her in a thong. The guy who took my $2 came over while we were playing pool and bought us a shot on the house. Pretty relaxed place. Laps, if interested, are on couches behind curtains off to the side of the large single room that makes up the bar.
I went across the street to the Centerfolds bar and it is like an old IGA store with a single long bar, a large elevated stage and a dark mezzanine for laps. The girls were betting looking and more professional at Centerfolds but the old time charm of the lamplighter is a real throwback to the Longbranch / Kitty saloon days.
I returned to Duluth and traveled 1st street and 2nd street for the blocks around the Wabusha and the Casino. At about 1:00 am (bars in Duluth close at 1:00 am, Superior closes at 2:00am) I picked up a woman in her early 30's who went right to business. "I give a good blow job for $50, lets go." I asked her to go to my room for half and half and she said she would not do that but she wanted to go "Under Michigan Avenue" for an in car date. Says it is safe. I said no thanks and she was out of the car as fast as she got in saying " It is your loss." I saw her shortly afterwards with two guys who looked like prison escapees so I was glad I did not go "Under Michigan Avenue" with her. I then picked up Cindy, 19 years old. Short jet black hair. Pierced nose, pierced tongue. As we drove I asked her back to my room and she also declined. We did go to a place she picked (not a normal activity for me but by this time my small head was talking louder than my big head, she was very cute.).
We went out lake street passed a little built up area of shops and motels, over a lift bridge and on to a park in a residential area overlooking the bay / lake. there was only one way in so you could see a car coming long before it got to us. Now I was glad I had the minivan. Great bbbj as I lounged in a back seat followed by a terrific fuck with her riding me in a reverse cowboy (with condom). Money was never discussed. As we pulled away I gave her two twenty dollar bills. I was trying to reach into another pocket for at leas a ten and she gushed her gratitude for my generous payment of $40. Enough said.
The next night I went to a pick-up bar called Curly's at north 20th Avenue west on the advice of a friend. No action but I could see the promise for future visits. The bar is shaped liked a 40 foot long oval with one side of the bar elevated three feet higher than the other. The crowd was sparse and very eclectic. Doors on the juke box, one guy playing air guitar in a Quaalude stupor for 40 minutes straight. A fat chick playing pool in sweat pants while a skinny guy about 14 years old kept pulling her pants down while she lined up a shot. Two Goth Marilyn Manson look alikes arguing loudly over whether Joe camel really enticed kids to smoke. An apparent dead body (heroin?) stretched out over two stools and the surface of the bar with her equally catatonic boyfriend. I love life for the experiences it offers. After two beers and some interplay with the quirky Curly patrons I left and went around the block to a massage parlor also suggested by my friend.
I should have been forewarned by the fact that the "Yashiko" sign in the window was crooked and winking with fatigue. I walked into a dirty vestibule the size of a phone booth and a tiny girl pulled a filthy rag out of a mail slot in the wall to eye me and ask why I was there. "To buy weapons grade, fissionable materials, what the fuck, over?" "Massages are $60" "For how long?" "Massages are $60" "I love life for the experiences it offers" I slide $60 through the mail slot and am admitted to the filthiest pigsty I have ever seen in a 'developed" country. I should have run but I wanted to see how this dream would end. "Suzie", oriental, 35 years old, petite, small breasted, in an animal print bikini lead me through a hallway and second room that was filled with newspapers, clothing, books, small electrical appliances and pawn shop flotsam and jetsam piled floor to ceiling. We entered a third room with a bed and porno tape playing. I skipped the massage and had her blow me while I stoop up for $45. In the next room I heard a Caucasian woman whining with her client on why he didn't like her and why he wanted an oriental. I was sober when I left.
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