DC strip club is feeling the election heat

On Election Day, during lunch, I went to the Good Guys club in Glover Park. I wondered if political stress could infect even a gentleman’s club, a place where people go to escape maddening realities: family, work, bills, the news. Has the political atmosphere dampened sentiment and tips? Can anyone relax and enjoy a lap dance today?

At 13:00 the club was practically empty, but the election procession was in the air. Jordan, a waitress in a low-cut swimsuit with a dazzling American flag, said the man had just called her outfit “very patriotic.” Several dancers said customers asked if they voted. Of the six working women, four were already working.

Most people come to Good Guys to relax. “They’ll say, ‘I need a double shot and I want to complain about my wife,'” says Aubrey, a bartender in a lacy crop top and black underwear. But the election has become somewhat heated in recent months. “It’s less about talking about what people stand for and more about being curious and asking who you’re voting for,” said a dancer named Erica. Another dancer, Harley, told me that a man once asked which candidate she preferred so he could decide whether to tip. (She was honest about supporting Trump. He gave a tip.)

Aubrey described the atmosphere at Good Guys as “like Switzerland—we try to keep it neutral.” At the bar, people chat with her about all sorts of things—feet, nipple clamps, politics—and she tries never to judge. “We’re clearly not crazy, we have our own opinions,” she said. “But when people are excited about the election, we’ll say, ‘Hey, you’re here to have a good time.’ You’re here to relax. Do you really want to be bothered by this? Don’t you want to see boobs?”

“I’m not trying to bring up politics, period,” said the dancer named Milan, but she will listen if anyone wants to talk. Sometimes the conversations are nit-picky, such as businessmen who believe Trump will benefit them financially but that Harris will be fairer to their daughters. Other times it’s more like a lecture. Older men in particular, she said, “think that because they live longer, their opinion is correct. And it’s like, okay, head nod, head nod. You have to let some men here think they’re right.”

When asked who tips more: Republicans or Democrats, the “Good Guys” dancers didn’t give a clear answer. One said Republicans, the other said Democrats. Milan said Trump supporters tend to have more money, but that “doesn’t mean they’re going to give it to you.” Erica dismissed the question, accusing me of being “sloppy” while laughing and covering her mouth with her long pink nails.

One dancer, Rosalía, believes the election has “generally damaged her money.” Two days ago, a group of men from the Netherlands came and talked about how much they loved Trump. “I thought, ‘Well, I choose Kamala, I love her,'” Rosalia said. “And they were going to give me a lap dance, but then the conversation got a little heated and they were like, ‘You know what? We’ll just leave.”

Rosalia often senses political overtones in the club. “You have a strong woman who will hopefully become president,” she explained, “and for some men, Kamala hurts their ego. So they call me the b-word, they call me a whore, and they call Kamala these names too.” She said she brushes it off. “I think that if you allow men to hurt you, it will give them strength. I don’t care if they think that way about me. I’m not here to be their friend, I’m just here to make money and hopefully start my own business.”

For the most part, however, the dancers agreed with Jordan, who called her occasional political conversations in the workplace “positive and constructive” and fairly easy to dismiss or tolerate. “It’s the same shit you hear everywhere,” said Aubrey, the bartender. “For example: “If this person wins, I will move” or “If this person wins, I will never spend another dollar again.” And it’s like, “OK, but tomorrow you’ll be here, either celebrating or drinking beer.”

The Good Guys will have election coverage into the wee hours tonight, although it’s unclear whether it will be busier than usual. Milan believes people may come here to unwind, but also that “maybe people are worried about the future of their money” so they won’t want to lose cash.

Rosalia won’t be there; the day shift ends at 7, and the polls in Maryland, where she lives, close at 8. She’s eager to cast her ballot for Harris; as soon as she gets off work, she’ll change out of her pink underwear and sheer black robe and take an Uber from the pole to the polling stations.