Men of Sapphire

Is that a pistol in his pocket, or is he one of the fantasy gun-slingers from “Men of Sapphire”? In Vegas, it's hard to tell ripped revue stars, from the equally muscle-bound coquettish waiting staff ready to serve your every whim...and then some! The City of Sin is practically teeming with delectable delights, who wouldn't look out of place as Cosmo centerfolds – although you might just find the lads of Sapphire Gentleman's Club push beyond the boundaries of steamy!

Sapphire's Strip Club, located prominently on Industrial Boulevard (you literally cannot miss it) never had to endure the tooth and nail fight for recognition. As the largest “gentleman's club” of it's kind in Vegas, Sapphire's also boasts an innumerable variety of performers – rumored to exceed 300 for any one evening. Now might be the time to add that Sapphire's doesn't feature a dedicated studio or theater for the performance. The club itself presents one monolithic showroom (29,000 square feet) bedecked with sumptuous modern furnishings in rich purples and burnt orange, encompassed by huge sweeping bars and a dividing aerial catwalk, upon which scantily clad females writhe for your pleasure. The massive center stage is almost the width of the showroom, arcing outward toward the audience seating area - where several strategically placed podiums add to the excitement. The world-famous “Sapphire Sky-boxes” offer aerial V.I.P seating, and a wholly unique vantage point to the night's proceedings – or a private lap-dance!

Following hot on the heels of it's flamboyant all-female fantasy revue; the management of Sapphire's decided it was time to honor it's increasing percentage of female clientèle with something equally as lascivious. The “Men of Sapphire” show incepted in 2009, took all the basal elements of a strip revue, but made it bigger, brasher and noisier than the demure attempts along the Strip. “Men of Sapphire” (according to critics) was the club's attempt to outdo the world-renowned “Men of Olympus” revue down at Olympic Garden, and although Sapphire's only give their buff male dancers an airing on Friday and Saturday nights (as opposed to Olympic's Wednesday-Saturday schedule) – it looks like they might be succeeding.

Vegas may have a rep for friskiness and fantasy, yet “Men of Sapphire” conjures the “you ain't seen nothing yet” anticipation synonymous with Chippendale fans. Brandishing fantasy men under your nose from the moment you arrive, the atmosphere within Sapphire's is generally fizzing before anyone has a chance to de-clothe. Lithe, Adonis-like bodies flit between tables offering drinks service, while tan-tastic Hispanic men smolder at you from the bar. When the clock strikes nine, it's time for the real body exhibition to get underway. A foursome clad in black hoodies and street-style denims explode onto the stage to an undercurrent of hip-hop, and you know before they've even formed an orderly presence that those clothes are either rippable synthetics, or held together with a teensy bit of Velcro. You can practically glimpse ripples of muscly perma-tanned skin before they commence a jump around routine of N-Sync proportions!

The show's lack of rotational schedule doesn't appear to have deterred returning guests – many of whom simply come for the “fantasy factor”. Few strip revues in Las Vegas truly cater for the fireman loving, uniform impressing hot blooded women that flock here, therefore the mere mention of a marine in full regalia is enough to have them packing out a venue. And Mr. Marine does not disappoint, clad in full naval uniform and balancing a faux rifle as he peels away his medals for your pleasure. The slide show of 5-minute fantasies continue with appearances from a Ronnie James Dio lookalike “rock star”, clad in hugging leather trousers and little else. Then there's the axe-wielding ranch boy, New York fireman and even the fictional “Erik” from Phantom of The Opera. Not sure why that last one has been implemented, but each to their own eh?

In contrast to many strip revues, “Men of Sapphire” isn't a show that stops after the last fantasy is over. The party continues well into the early hours, with the promise of one-on-one attention, lap-dancing and some podium booty-shaking that few can peel their eyes from long enough, to make a long-needed trip to the bar! Prepare for your pulse to rocket, because even rock warbler Avril Lavigne dubbed this “the hottest male show in town”!