The Vulva Tea of Mercy is Not Strained

This post will, among other things, explain why the post here was called "The Big Teaze" and not "The Big Tease." 

Who out there is familiar with “Boba Tea”? Let me see a show of hands.  OK, probably most of you.  As usual, I was late to the party.

It seems my pal Abe almost always arrives to the BSC poker room with to-go cup of boba tea.  When I asked once what he was drinking, he told me “boba tea.” So, I asked him what the hell that was and he answered.  I still wasn’t sure.  I figured out it was some kind of tea drink that has been imported here from Asia .  So it appeared to tie into Abe’s preference in the fairer sex.  As I revealed in the post here, Abe has the Yellow Fever. 

Abe would stop in Chinatown on his way in and pick up a boba tea.  And for awhile, he had been trying to get me to join him in his favorite Asian Tea House for a boba.  I resisted because I don’t really like tea. I will drink hot tea only if absolutely necessary when I have a cold and a sore throat.  I will drink Iced Tea only when no other more suitable beverage is available.  In either case, I will put enough sweetener in it to pretty much obliterate the taste of the tea.

But Abe discovered a tea house that he felt might have something that would override my objection to tea: Girls serving said tea in their underwear.

Ok, technically, Café Teaze advertises that their servers (all of whom are Asian) wear lingerie.

Hmm.

It was pretty obvious that a place like this indeed cried out for closer inspection by yours truly.

That almost happened the first night I was back in Vegas, in late August.  I was playing poker with Prudence and Abe joined us.  As the evening wore down, Abe was telling us more about his favorite Boba Tea place.  We agreed we would all hit it together before I left town. In fact, as we finished up with the poker, Abe suggested we all go there right then, but I declined.  I was just too tired from lack of sleep, the long drive, unpacking, a rough poker session, etc. Abe and Prudence went without me, and Prudence sent me the following picture she took of their server, with this note: “You are really missing out.”

Ok, I was sold.  A week or so later, the three of us all met at Café Teaze, right when they opened, at 6PM.  Prudence and I got there first.  A really nice looking Vietnamese gal came over to us to give us menus.  She was wearing a bra and panties.  Or so I thought.  It was definitely not a bikini, this was definitely underwear, and pretty skimpy underwear at that. She went over the menu, and asked if we’d been there before.  Prudence said yes, but I of course said no, and told her that I had never had boba tea before.  My actual plan was to see if they had some non-tea drink, like diet coke, or even water.  But it was pretty hard to say no to a hot gal in her underwear. There was something on the menu called “chocolate milk boba tea.”  I decided that it sounded like something I could probably handle.  After all, when in Rome…..

Now, aside from tea, and the nice scenery, this place is offering, well, an “experience,” for lack of a better word.  So when the girl came over, she told us her name was Crystal and sat down at our table (I believe we were the first customers of the day) and chatted with us, very friendly.  When she got up to place our order, I realized she wasn’t really wearing panties.  She was wearing a thong.  It revealed approximately 100% of her buttocks.  It was a damn pleasant sight.  Prudence totally cracked up at my reaction to seeing her bare backside.  Too bad she didn’t take a picture of me, I’m sure my expression was pretty good.

I commented to Prudence, when I realized the gal had planted her totally bare butt on the chair next to her, “That’s unsanitary, isn’t it?”  She agreed, and laughed.

Now there was another girl behind the “bar” who was apparently the bartender or the barista or whatever you’d call her.  She was also only wearing a bra and because of the bar, I couldn’t see what she had on the bottom.  I complained to Prudence, “Isn’t she gonna come out….I want more than one girl.”  She laughed.  It wasn’t till we were nearly ready to go that I saw her come out from behind the bar.  She was wearing a slightly less revealing thong than Crystal.  It did cover a little bit of her ass.  I thought I saw a third girl when we first got in, but I never saw her from the neck down and I never saw her again.  It’s possible I was hallucinating hot Asian gals.

Note:  Due to the, um, hiring practices of the management of this tea house, the view from the waist down was better than from the waist to the neck.

When Abe joined us, I was surprised that they didn’t know his order cold. My first words to him were, “Gee, I can’t imagine why you like it here so much.”  I asked him if he actually lived there.  I mean, why would he ever leave?

He ordered something from Crystal.  As I said, the girls are more than just servers, so every time she came to take our order or check on us, she actually sat down and joined us for quite a long time.  Prudence, ever the student of life, asked her if she had run into a lot of creepy guys working there.

She said yes, and then told us a long story about a guy who didn’t sound very creepy at all, but who didn’t leave her a tip.  Subtle.

Another time, she came over, sat down, and said, “You want to hear something crazy?  Friday night is ‘Pasty night.’  And we’re opening at 4.”  Abe had already informed me of a previous “pasty night.”  It’s just what it sounds like.  Instead of bras, the girls wear nothing but pasties on top.

“Damn,” I said.  I won’t be here.  I guess I’ll just have to win enough money tonite to be able to afford to stay through the week.”  I didn’t.

Abe and Prudence were comparing Crystal to the woman who served them a week earlier, the blonde above.  I commented that I don’t really like blonde hair on Asian women.  “It’s too unnatural looking,” I said.  Prudence responded….”Oh, you so traditional.  You’re probably into bush porn.”  I just laughed.

We had a good time, catching up on our recent activities (when we weren’t being interrupted by our mostly naked server).  I found this picture of Crystal on their Facebook page.

And here’s a shot that Prudence took of a different waitress on a different night she went there.

The only problem:  Not a fan of the boba tea.  My drink would have been fine if it didn’t have that bitter tea taste.  And the boba didn’t add anything to it, as far as I was concerned.

We only went there for the drinks.  They have a limited food menu so we decided to eat at BSC before playing some poker.

On the way over there, I called my friend LM.  She and her husband Woody are big boosters of my blog, and I wanted to tell her that I had been served boba tea by a nearly naked Vietnamese girl.  It would be easier to leave her a voice message than to text her when I got to the casino.  So hours later, I got texts from LM and Woody.  It seems that when LM related my message to Woody about being served boba tea by a girl in her underwear, he somehow heard “boba” as “vulva.”  Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part.  But when I saw his text about my having “vulva tea,” I knew that, forevermore, I would be referring to boba tea as “vulva tea.”  Perhaps you can all do that and we can start an actual trend.  It could become bigger than “the dreaded pocket Kings.”

The poker wasn’t much to talk about.  At first, I was sent to a separate table on my own while Prudence and Abe were at the same table.  I managed to win about $100 there while waiting for my table change to come through.  Nothing dramatic, won a small pot flopping a flush, won a few pots with c-bets, won a pot with top pair.  And didn’t take any big hits in the process.

By the time I got called to the other table, the Slut Parade was in full gear, and this table was right in front.  Prudence and Abe, on either side of the dealer, had the two best seats in the house to enjoy the parade.  I had a less preferred seat on Prudence’s immediate left.  This may have been Prudence’s first real exposure to the Slut Parade.  This was the Sunday of Labor Day Weekend, and I have to say, that particular weekend turned out to be an especially good weekend for SP viewing.  Especially if one happens to enjoy looking at liberally exposed bosoms.  Let’s see, do we know anyone like that?

There were also plenty of ladies representing Abe’s preferred “genre.”  For some reason, Abe started asking Prudence for her opinion of the ladies he was noticing. As in, “What about the girl in the red dress?”  We both found it odd that Abe needed a woman’s opinion.  Finally, Prudence said to him, “Come on, what do you need my opinion for?  Your penis knows what it likes.” 

As vividly as I have tried to describe the ladies going to the club, they still seem to shock first-time viewers.  As a worldly woman, you would think Prudence would be unshockable, but no, she found herself oft-times amazed at the clothes—or lack thereof—the club goers were wearing. And keep in mind, this was after we’d just had a girl in a bra and a thong serve us vulva tea.  At one point, she said, “Why do they even bother wearing any clothes at all?” I was no doubt distracted by whoever happened to have elicited that comment from her.  But when I recovered, I said to her, “If they allowed it, what percentage of the girls would just show up stark naked?”  She said, “More than you think, you’d be surprised.”  Damn decency laws.

I also made a comment about the cost of those “dresses” the girls were wearing.  “They can’t cost very much, right?  I mean, there’s so little material.”  She said, “No, those are like $700 dresses.”  For about three square inches of material?  Somebody’s making boatloads of money.

Once I got to that table, between the parade and the conversation with Prudence and Abe, I wasn’t concentrating too much on the poker.  I managed to keep all the money I came to the table with, and I considered that a win.

I guess I should explain the title of this post.  You already know where the “vulva” came from (so-to-speak).  The actual title is a play off of a “feghoot.”  A feghoot is basically a shaggy dog story with a bad pun as its punch line (see here for a longer explanation).  Back in the day, I heard and/or read a ton of these.  I’ve mercifully forgotten most of them, but a few of the punch lines have stuck in my mind all these years.  The punch line I remember the most, for some reason, is, “The Koala Tea of Mercy is Not Strained.”  I’ve ruined the joke for you (as if that was even possible) but you can find a version of it here.  So pretty much as soon as I realized I would be doing a post about tea, the title was sealed in my mind. It was originally going to be “boba tea” in the title, but it was easy to replace “boba” with “vulva.”

And if you think about, and have a dirty mind, you will see that “vulva” tea not being strained works out really, really well.  Especially if, ahem, you’re into bush porn.

I’m going to leave you with some pics Café Teaze’s FB page, I hope it’s ok that I use them.  Enjoy.