Carmel, California must have taken a page from the playbook of Covington Kentucky when deciding what to do about the glut of art galleries that have flooded the town. In the case of Covington, it got to the point where there were so many strip clubs it was indeed a blight. In fact, it was downright ugly. I walked by a place one time while on my way to treat myself to a serving of LaRosas pizza for my birthday, when I walked by the open door of this one strip club and wondered, "huumm-maybe?"
But then, as the drunk made his exit, this whale of a broad spread her legs and straddled a barstool, which promptly seemed to disappear up inside her cavernous cunt. I continued on to LaRosas.
But then, there was Dreama. A nasty drunk when provoked, but physically beautiful. And ambitous. Dreama was a dreamer. And when I ran into her once at the local laundromat, and she asked me to remove some quarters from the pockets of her skin tight jeans (on the grounds that her just polished nails were not yet dry) I thought my dreama might come true. But alas it was not to be.
The girls, though, ran the mix, from beautiful, to pretty, to cute, to interesting, to plain, to ugly, to nasty-to downright, motherfucking disgusting.
All becaue there were just too many places that had to have a cetain number of dancers in order to function, and there just weren't that many good ones to go arund. So they took what they could get. Of course, many of them were drunks, or drug addicts, and hookers. If they weren't so going in, a great lot of the time they would end up that way. But a good many of them resisted this downward spiral-though they seldom worked at these places for long. But for the most part it was relatively easy, in most places, to get a handjob under the table. Or a blowjob. But whether you got any of this, or nothing, you could always say you got fucked. The drinks you were obliged to pay the girls for their "company" ran the gamut from twenty dollars, and more.
Naturally, you were made to understand that any activity that smacked of prostitution was "not encouraged" and could only happen "after hours".
Regardless of all this, it got to the point where even the prettiest of girls had a hard time bringing in the customers for long stretches at a time. These stretches would come to be known as the "off-season" and any girl, even the prettiest and most talented dancers, were discouraged from engaging in work solely for the artistic merits. Even so, it all grew old- as did all too many of the dancers-and the novelty quickly wore off, and the glut of strip clubs ensured a corresponding abundance of mediocrity. And desperation.
And so the city of Covington, Kentucky passed an odinance which aimed to prevent new strip clubs from opening. For moral reasons, of course, and to improve the city's image. I haven't been there for awhile, so I wonder if the city's image has improved all that much. Probably not. But I bet the girls on the average are prettier. And I bet business is stable, and I bet it is good, maybe even in those "off-seasons". It is probably booming, more so than usual.
Carmel, California may indeed experience a Renaissance, for the same resons. Too much of anything is a bad thing, even art, and even the best of galleries might be in danger of being swallowed up by the glut of mediocrity that might otherwise ensue.
Of course, you have to guard as well against the other extreme. The dangers of elitism, and worse, the threat of monopoly. Even a glut is preferable to that. Even when out of desperation galleries resort to underhanded promotions and tactics to attract customers.
Such as the one gallery recently that offerred free admission to any man who showed up naked to a recent exhibition. And of course some did. I for one don't see the wisdom of such an obvious display. It is at best somewhat degrading to the gallery. For the man? Well, I guess that depends. Petty much like some of the girls in the strip clubs of Covington.
Some people would almost pay them to keep their clothes on.
