Best Las Vegas Wet T-shirt Contest
I didn’t hesitate to volunteer when the DJ announced that the wet T-shirt contest would be starting soon and he needed four judges. When I gave him my name, he said, “That’ll be ten bucks.”
[Note: The wet t-shirt contest has been suspended for now. I’ll post an update if and when they start it up again. For now, the only wet t-shirt contest in Vegas is at Little Darlings weekly on Wednesday nights. — Snyder]
“I have to pay ten bucks to be a judge?”
“Hey,” he said, “You get the best seat in the house.” He nodded toward the four chairs that were lined up against the back wall not two feet from the wading pool.
I gave him ten bucks and took a seat. No question, these were definitely the best seats in the house. And the place was packed to the rafters—there were no other available seats. It was a deal I figured, what with no cover charge to get into the joint and a large mug of draft beer for only four bucks. Little did I realize how prime this seat actually was …
Here are the details …
First off, this is a biker bar and Wednesday is Bike Night. If you get there any time after 8 pm, the parking lot will be so crowded with Harleys, you’ll have to park in the lot of one of the adjacent businesses. The parking lot itself is part of the draw as you’ll see hundreds of bikers milling around, checking out each other’s scooters, and there are lots of unique and gorgeous choppers to look at if that’s your thing. If you’re a typical upstanding citizen type who fears the outlaw faction of the biker community, maybe you should pass up this show, but if you do, you’ll be depriving yourself of one of the best free titty shows in Vegas.
The wet T-shirt contest starts sometime between 10 and 11 pm, depending on how long it takes the band to break down their equipment so the bar staff can get the wading pool set up.
The four judges sit right behind the wading pool and there’s a large bucket of water (and very cold water, I can say with authority), beside the pool. The judges the night I judged consisted of three men and one woman. I sat on one end with the female judge beside me. I didn’t catch her name but we discussed the attributes of the contestants, one of whom was her friend whom she was rooting for openly. And she asked me if I would please vote for her friend also because she really needed the money.
The contestants are provided with T-shirts by the bar. There were seven contestants the night I was there. One at a time, as their names are called by the DJ, they get into the pool and stand there while their T-shirts get doused with water from a plastic cup. Most manage to tear their shirts open, exposing their breasts, while the crowd cheers them on. I would have to say this is a much rowdier crowd than you find in your average strip club.
Mr. D’s Offers Titties in the Wild
At Mr. D’s, we get a whole new take on titty-worship… Okay, we guys love tits. We all admit it. I can’t recall any guy I know ever saying, “I don’t care much for tits.” Even the gay guys I know like tits. Even the women I know like tits.
And tits are among the forms of entertainment Vegas has always offered in plenitude. Lenny Bruce used to do a bit about Vegas shows. He felt the casinos should just post the words “tits and ass” on their marquees. Wait, here it is, I just found a transcript of his 1961 Carnegie Hall concert. I used to have this LP but lost it in a fire…
“Tits and ass, that’s what the attraction is.”
“Just tits and ass? What’s the second biggest attraction?”
“More tits and ass.”
“Get off it! The third?”
“Tits and ass, and more ass, and tits, and ass and tits and ass and tits and ass.”
That was fifty years ago. Vegas shows haven’t changed much, though now there are strip clubs competing with the casinos by offering a greater variety and quantity of tits and ass, with more of a customer-friendly hands-on policy. The thing is, in the casinos and even in the strip clubs, what we get in the way of tits are domesticated tits. These tits look dangerous but they won’t actually bite you. They’re tame.
By contrast, at Mr. D’s, what we get are titties in the wild. These are not dancers being paid to pose and shimmy; these are biker chicks tearing their shirts off in a roadhouse-style bar just to hear the boys and girls howl like dogs and make fools of themselves. (Who me?) These titties really might bite. And man, I have to say, if you haven’t experienced titties in the wild, you’d better get that onto your bucket list. If you’re a surfer or scuba diver, wear your wet suit and volunteer to be a judge.
By the second dousing, all contestants have successfully ripped their T-shirts completely off and are now wearing either shorts or a bikini bottom or g-string. Then they come around to the judges for a second, and wetter, lap dance. When all dancers have finished, they all get into the pool together for a kind of topless group grope dance finale, while the water dude comes to each of the judges in turn to get their choices to determine first, second, third, etc. Then the winners are announced and handed some money—I believe they are divvying up the judges’ buy-ins. The actual amounts each of the winners gets are not announced.
Then the pool is removed, the judges realize they are sopping wet from neck to knees, and they also realize why the bar’s regular customers who have seen the contest before do not clamor to volunteer for the judge’s job. I suspect the judges’ jobs are usually taken by those who haven’t seen the show before and who have little idea what the judge’s position entails.
Here’s how I would describe the job: Seven women, one at a time, will sit on your lap in their panties, sopping wet, while each one tries to convince you that she’s got the best tits—twice. You’ll see little, medium, and big tits, young and old, pert and enhanced tits. Seven women, twice, and when it’s over, you’re drenched.
I’d have to say it was the best ten bucks I’d spent in a long time.
[Bike Night pic from Mr. D’s fb page]