(continuing from above) Wrong. The miscarriage of stripper services spilled into Temptations itself, where the girls sat and engaged in bland conversation with no recognition of our treasured bachelor without either stripping or dancing, with the exception of one of them performing her normal stage routine (again, a service that normally comes with the cover charge of such an establishment). Spoiler alert: this was the only time that either of them either danced or removed a stitch of clothing in our presence, a performance (or lack thereof) which makes the boundaries of "private stripper" expectations in the collective bachelor party mind become nebulous at best and insanity-producing at worst. What did we pay them for, again? I began to question it myself, and the inquiry only became more frequent and confounding in my mind as the night went on. Leaving the club and entering the limo revealed more of the same, with both girls (having changed from their stripper clothes into...well, stripper clothes) sitting and chatting idly about how they couldn't dance right now because their dresses were too tight (if you're asking yourself right now if stripper clothes that can't be either danced in or stripped out of defeat the purpose, and can somehow reconcile that paradox in your own mind, then you're making more progress than I am in dealing with this emotionally). At the bars we went to afterwards, we continued to be underwhelmed with our 2 private strippers who did not stand, or dance, or do anything but check their watches waiting for their shift to end. They talked, at best. One of the gentlemen had an amazing waterfront view apartment, which they refused to enter. Not in itself a big deal or even entirely unexpected, just another pothole in the long road of their presence as "fun-sponges" (a term coined by a member of the group in honor of their presence). As 2am approached, they alluringly suggested that our limo return them to their club. We told them to return our jackets (yes, we ended up paying to clothe strippers, a fact which I'm trying not to think about but which nonetheless inspired the aforementioned comment about how I may as well have set the money on fire), said thank you, and left them standing in their too-tight dresses on the street as we left in the most brazen display of intoxicated males voluntarily abandoning attractive women to the elements out of sheer resignation and indifference carefully chiseled by the hand of plummeting expectations that I have ever personally witnessed, or even heard of. Now don't shed any tears over the bachelor party- the night was awesome. Suffice to say that everyone drank, fought, and partied as would befit such an event. Plenty of women were out that night and happy to fill the void of the Reluctant Strippers (excellent title for a children's book, I might add), and two members of the group, one of whom may or may not include this author, successfully talked their way out of and/or fled police custody following being detained after a street brawl. A particularly vengeful member of the group subsequently rallied more sober forces from around the city while our group assembled away elsewhere, returned to the bar that the fight broke out at, and began KO'ing random males who likely had nothing to do with the previous argument that led to the first punch- the substance of which we haven't yet collectively recalled. At Temptations, the bachelor was smothered by strippers and lap dances, but they were all purchased one at a time for $40 each (no that's not a typo: when this author heard the price upon arriving at the club, my first question to the offending stripper was if he would get massaged with unicorn tears for that price). We didn't even buy him lap dances from our 2 private strippers, certain that at some point in the night they would unleash themselves upon him, which resulted in the following outcome (again, read this briefly and don't allow your mind to linger on it, or your head will explode): our bachelor didn't even see 1 of the private strippers so much as topless, and that number is fixed at 1 only because the other, as mentioned, performed a normal stage routine. (continued below) read more

Gentlemen who are charged with planning and executing a bachelor party in the vicinity of Savannah, GA, please do not make the same mistake I did. I sought out 2 private strippers to accompany the bachelor all night, and after placing some inquiries I received a call back from "Nikki," the manager of Temptations. The arrangements we agreed upon were for the Temptations "party bus" (I put that in quotes for a reason, hang in there) to pick up our party downtown with our 2 private strippers on board, transport us to Temptations for a few hours, then accompany us in a limo to whatever establishments the night brought us to, and return them to Temptations custody at 2am. The price: $1000, negotiated down from $1500. Pretty steep, but cheaper than the escort services offered and well worth it for what I saw as the single most worthwhile element of a bachelor party which already had everything else it needed to be successful, which is to say a solid group of high-testosterone guys who like to drink heavily and fight. What could possibly go wrong with that equation, you ask? The night was as excellent as you would imagine, with one notable exception: the 2 "private strippers" ended up being the biggest waste of $1000 that could have possibly occurred, short of dumping the money in a pile, dousing it in lighter fluid, and setting it aflame. How could that be, you ask? If I wanted fully clothed women to ignore the bachelor all night without either stripping or dancing, ever, I could get that from the legions of non-strippers all over the world, without spending a dime. Paying an exorbitant amount of money for what the bachelor normally receives for free anywhere in society, stung a little bit. And lest you think this is some vengeful soliloquy composed out of spite rather than confronting the manager, let me assure you, she and I discussed at length exactly what did (and did not) occur at the bitter end of the night, once we had successfully lost several members of the party and just before the bachelor was medically unresponsive in the back of the limo. Nikki's response to everything I told her was to stand up for her employees as she should, albeit in full disregard of all cultural norms involving strippers-slash-escorts-slash-private dancers, and I could tell she looked at me as another drunken loser in the grips of a Four Loko coma who would forget about everything if and when he woke up from his next brief sleep cycle with a heart rate soaring at the brink of one or more arterial bursts. To which she was right, with the exception of the blackout-drunk part. I told her I knew she would not return ay money, nor did I expect her to as a rational businesswoman who had successfully reaped $1000 cash in a transaction from which I had no legal precedent to reclaim it. However, I informed her of my intentions, which was to write an online review to add to the 2 current dissertations on their Google site, consisting of "Nice T&A" and "Thanks for the information," which would hopefully cost her over $1000 in future business. So here it is. First was the "party bus," which Nikki assured me had a stripper pole and blacked out windows that would allow the dancers to strip and dance on our way to the club. This description proved to be accurate if you discount the stripping or dancing part. Instead, the ladies sat in their seats and asked the questions you would expect from an awkward, chance social encounter with people who had not been paid for their company, such as "Where are you from," and "How do you guys know each other." We all waited for the inquisition to end with some display of stripper prowess, but it didn't. They just...talked. I thought at the time that they were just getting to know the group of guys, that I too would be reluctant to immediately remove all my clothes in the presence of a random crowd of people (actually that's not true). But the "party bus" proved to be a glorified term for the "idle banter bus." No matter, I thought, things were about to get crazy, right? Right? (continued below) read more

(continuing from above) Where did our $1000 go, and what for? I'm wondering that myself. Nikki's response was that we paid for their company, which was true, and when I added that the capacity within which they were hired existed under a banner that said PRIVATE STRIPPERS, she tried to justify that their very presence was enough. That may be true for a lonely, overweight 40-something guy who needs to pay for women to talk to him. But our group was composed of young, athletic meat eaters, men in their proverbial physical and sexual prime. There was no dorky family member who had to be invited out of some social courtesy, their were no stragglers invited to fill slots. Nay, this was an elite group, comprised of handpicked individuals with admission cut at limo capacity (minus 2 seats for our private...whatever they were). These guys don't have trouble meeting girls, talking to girls, or sleeping with girls. The purpose of hiring 2 strippers was merely to send things over the top in honor of our bachelor getting married to the exceptionally lovely woman of his dreams, who will hopefully never read this. And again, I did speak with Nikki at length (yes, the limo returned to Temptations at some juncture in the night following the 2am private stripper cutoff, we're not exactly sure how) in the parking lot of the establishment. It was a long, drawn out, rational conversation in which no voices were raised, but nonetheless was surrounded by a ring of large, concerned men (still not sure if they're employees) standing by in case I got out of line, my favorite of which was a bald, goateed douche-scrote in a bedazzled rhinestone jean jacket (I am 100% not making this up), who stepped in at some random point of his own choosing and in a loud, ever intelligent-sounding Southern accent, informed me that I was standing too close to her as I was 3 feet away, but should have been 5. Back to the point. Nikki offered us free dances to compensate us, to which I responded no thank you not because it wouldn't have salvaged some dignity out of our abortion of a Temptations experience, but because our bachelor was missing at that time. Don't trouble me with your accusations that we didn't see him in the crowd or he was in the bathroom- we had a team of guys, what remained of our party after losing a few members at random intervals throughout the night, scouring the club, the limo, the parking lot- he was gone, gone. The circumstances under which he reappeared an hour later are still shadowy and difficult to grasp, and since the one witness to his own debacle was by that time blackout drunk, probably resigned to the annals of fate and mystery until the end of time. So $1000 has vanished with little more than this literary trace to document it ever existed, but all is not lost. As you have probably guessed by now I am an eternal optimist, and have found the following light at the end of the situation's tunnel: I am going into the private stripper business myself. Ladies, for only $1000, I will accompany you all night, wherever you wish, even into the forbidden apartments of the upscale Savannah waterfront. No stripping, or dancing, is included, but it's not because I don't like you, only because my suit will be un-strippable. And I would like to borrow your jacket. Don't worry, there will be plenty of that clumsy first-date questioning that you hired me for, but when my shift is up, it's up. Maybe Nikki will be my first client. read more

I had went there a few weeks back and while bArtender are nice & there were some young, fun talented girls BUT there were a few who didn't know how to take care of themselves and stunk of body odor and bad breath. I got a name of one dancer in particular, Gemini, odor was horrendous, she was very unprofessional & was overheard talking about other dancers and customers in a negative way, stayed on her phone, & attempted to offer sexual favors & hassle you for money. If you do go here, hopefully somethings resolved but I don't see a return soon. read more

This is Strip club horrible! First of all they charge way too much for door cover charges and then you have to Bring your own beer. If you weren't aware of that before you got there then they have a scam that you can buy marked up beer from their own store they sell down stairs to bring into the club. The girls are nasty! . The club is very dirty! read more

NOTE: www.BoinkNow.com is the place to be if you are looking for someone to sleep with in the Savannah area so if things don't quite work out at the club for you , you should go give it a whirl cuz the chances are pretty good you will hook up. read more

This place needs to fire all of the "security". They are all on some kind of power trip. Rude for No reason and them has the nerve to request a tip. I will never be going back read more

girl with bangs n skirt talking about documentaries about homeless people hmuuuuuuuuuuu