Just another night — but the last one — at Rick's strip club

In many ways, Wednesday night's last dance at Rick's in Lake City, the strip joint that now becomes property of the feds, was just another night of business.

According to the FBI, up to 15,000 customers a month would visit Rick's, and in 2006 and 2007, the joint grossed more than $10 million.

If you wanted to see female skin, for 22 years, Rick's was there — seven days a week, 365 days a year, from 11 a.m. to 2:30 a.m., for a cover charge of $10 and one minimum $5 nonalcoholic drink.

On its last night — it shut its doors for good early Thursday morning — the curious and the regulars stopped by. The parking lot overflowed with 100 or so cars, and the place was near its capacity of 265.

For the curious, no, there were no overt signs of prostitution in that infamous, dimly lit "VIP area" with the high-sided booths that face away from the main entrance.

Still, you shouldn't continue reading this if details ... well, you're going to continue reading, aren't you?

Even the condom machine that was mentioned in the search-warrant affidavit that the FBI filed in May of 2008 was no longer seen in the men's restroom.

"Undercover officers have observed used condoms littered throughout the VIP area, and have observed customers using condoms during sex acts with dancers," said the affidavit.

Rick's was one of four strip clubs that federal prosecutors said were part of Frank Colacurcio Sr.'s operation that for decades was a "scourge on the community."

The affidavit said it was the dancers who engaged in prostitution — which the FBI said included pretty much all sex acts — who made the most money.

Now it's over for Rick's, Sugar's in Shoreline, Honey's near Everett and Fox's near Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Pierce County. The government is seizing the clubs and property it says is worth at least $4.5 million.

The red neon "Open" sign blinked Wednesday night outside Rick's at 11332 Lake City Way N.E. Another lit sign, on the side of the building, said, "Thanks loyal patrons."

The DJ inside announced that for this night, no credit cards or ATM cards could be used, just cash.

Apparently, for this night, the dancers would get to keep all money from dances, instead of having to pay $130 "rent" for working that shift.

On a small stage, a dancer was beginning her routine, which ended with her wearing just footwear with 5- or 6-inch Lucite heels.

The men in the audience did not move — just sat there, transfixed.

A dancer with a Slavic accent stopped by the table of a man who said he owned a ranch in Montana and lived part of the year in Seattle. He looked to be in his 50s. She asked if he wanted a dance.

The guy made some kind of joke. "You gotta tease them a little bit," he said. The dancer shrugged and left.

A dancer who said her name was Sunny said she was willing to talk about Rick's and her future plans. She was planning to travel.

She happened to be standing by the DJ booth, and a man running it overheard the conversation and said she shouldn't give an interview.

He swore, and talked about all those dancers now without jobs, "Yeah, the demise of an empire. You know what, there's going to be a ... lot of homeless girls now."

Then a woman who said she was the manager came over and said there would be no more interviews.

"I'm sorry, we'll have to ask you to leave," she said.

Outside, a man who said his name was Bill Brown, 44, a construction worker, was taking a smoke. He's divorced, now single.

"I've been coming here for the last two years, every five or six weeks," he said. Sometimes he spent up to $100, sometimes not.

He said he did not engage the dancers in sex, but would pay $20 to $40 for a dance in front of him.

Dances last for one rock tune pumping out on the sound system.

It wasn't just to look at naked young women that he went to Rick's, said Brown.

"Sometimes it's nice to get some attention, have a girl flirt with you, even though you know the role she plays," said Brown.

Another guy, who said he's 29 and works security but wouldn't give his name — as happens often when interviewing people at a strip club — joined in the conversation.

"I learned to hit on girls by hitting on girls here," he said. "They're the harshest critics."

A Rick's employee working the parking lot then stopped the interviewing, saying it had to take place someplace off the grounds. The 29-year-old guy decided it was time to head back inside.

Another guy who worked the parking lot said hello.

He said he had already applied for unemployment.

He also said he had made job applications at other strip clubs.

You gotta stay with what you know.

Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com