First I read as much as possible while contemplating my first trip to TJ in many years.
I'd never before even been to Zona Norte and there is only SO much you can think you understand from watching YouTube and other various videos of the local scene.
When first considering an actual foray into Mexico I thought it wise to reduce my loss potential by sorting through stuff I couldn't actually NEED in MX and leaving that in the trunk of my rental vehicle.
I then divided my cash on hand and stashed some of it in hidden pockets (which would surely have been discovered by bad guys who were out to get me).
(side note: DON'T wait until you've scouted out the U.S. side of the border for all of the important landmarks before only then wanting to drive far enough away so as to be spotted by no one when prepping your belongings for such a seeming risk, or you'll end up driving forever, as I did, when wanting a spot where I could be inconspicuous as I prepped {sorting wallet, sorting items in coat pockets, etc.** )
Upon entering Mexico I didn't even know whether I wanted to get a room for the night at a Zona Norte hotel (for about $60) vs. a potential 30-minute stay with a lady for $19, but I'd read somewhere that carrying luggage into MX is (the wrong) sign to both potential crooks and crooked police as well.
So there are two pedestrian crossings from California into Tijuana, and they are Ped East and Ped West, which is the newer of the pair.
Ped east is the one adjacent to the Trolley stop which is so easy to reach from San Diego.
Park in the lot behind the Jack-in-The-Box which is adjacent to the Trolley Stop.
$12 U.S. gets you either 8 hours or 12 hours of parking, and you pay your first $12 upon arrival and then get a time-stamped ticket which will require added funds upon your exit IF you stay longer than whatever the correct amount of time is.
So, you've got your paperwork in order, and you're on to Mexico.
Cross the street from the trolley stop, and lots of people will be around, many toting packages upon packages all procured from U.S. stores before they return to Mexico.
Look for a "blue building" (perhaps more easily identifiable as such during daylight hours), and keep walking with many others toward and through a secure one-way turnstile, the other side of which has you in Mexico.
Before long on what is likely a safe path (between the point-of-no-return behind you, and the Mexican border officials ahead of you (no where for would-be thieves to really escape) you reach a fork in the road:
one side says "Mexicanos" and the other "Foreigners". At 7:30pm, well after dark, everyone else was going through the Mexicanos path, and the path for "Foreigners" was still clearly open, but all of the barriers perhaps used earlier for line organization were put aside, and nobody else was there but me. You let the official look at your passport, and m-m-m-m-most likely you will breeze right through. (perhaps his main concern is that you will be eligible to return to the U.S. given their more strict scrutiny and standards)
Soon you continue on a one-way, formal path until you re-enter the night air... and almost immediately you will spot an orange and white sign which says "Zona Shuttle", and before it you take very few unmonitored steps in Mexico. In front of a tiny building is a shuttle stop, with a man there attending it. (if it is 90F degrees and ungodly humid there is a tiny office-like place where you can perhaps be in an air conditioned environment as you await the shuttle) (the office and some amenities there were offered to me, but as it was 55F and after dark, I thought I'd wait outside for the driver who was summoned immediately by this very friendly and never-worrisome attendant).
I was escorted to the back of an 8-passenger limo, where I was the only passenger for what was a free ride... though I happily tipped the driver $3.
The trip was a brief one, along uncrowded back streets and without much scenery or concern.
Soon I was let out the door in front of the Hong Kong Club, which is the most popular there.
Two security men formally checked my pockets and scrutinized some of my things, which I happily showed them were of no concern security-wise.
Let me state with emphasis that EVERYONE I needed to deal with (before getting to the girls) spoke very conversive English and that while I speak no serious Spanish beyond a few words, I never had a hint of language barrier with anyone male on the entire journey.
Let me also state with emphasis that if you can't handle the ways of old with thick cigarette smoke at such a venue, then you don't want to experiment with the Hong Kong Club in Tijuana!!
So I walked in... and young women were dancing everywhere... and the place has 3 floors, one of which was unused on this off night... and I guess I would estimate there were perhaps 200 men spread thoroughly around the open areas along with what could have been 125 to 150-ish young women, any of whom could presumably be inspired upstairs for perhaps $80-100 for 30 minutes of full service. (the rental of the room for 30 minutes costs $19)
It took a while to find a seat... so I just kept walking around each floor while investigating the environs as I went. Eventually I happened upon a spot, and soon after a male waiter came and brought me a sealed can of Coca Cola for $4 (no cover charge at HK).
Not so long after that, young women happened along, some planting themselves purposefully in my lap. When this happened, it was common for a male waiter to come along and gently ask if I'd like to buy the lady a drink, for $9. (the $9 helps toward their paying their nightly rent to the club, and each would clearly give her name to the waiter to be written down immediately after)
Every few minutes a girl would say something akin to: "Un dollar tip for me?" (often after gyrating in my lap while pleasantly received). Observing in all directions I saw lots of customers fully fondling these young women without restraint, and I'm certain that I could have gotten plenty of mileage for a succession of $1 tips. In fact, somewhere before or during a 2nd drink purchased for one woman, she was stroking me through my pantleg with major intent, while making suggestive reference to what she may have felt.
A couple of other brief visitors leaned toward my ear and whispered "sucky-sucky-fucky-fucky upstairs", while trying to entice me to take them upstairs for full service.
Soon, the stage a half-meter from me evolved to have a shaving cream and oil show on it... including fully nude, double-dildo co-penetration, AND a condom on the end of a specially modified power drill used by one stripper to fully penetrate the other stripper at any given time.
Eventually a customer peeled off all but his skivvies and got on stage, laid down upon the shaving cream and oil, and had the girls putting more shaving cream upon him, before one then rode his face (full contact) as the other rode his torso. It was then that one of the strippers splashed shaving cream beyond the stage, and I got slightly hit, so I gave up my seat and resumed walking around the club.
After a while I returned less near to the shaving cream stage, and sat on a bar stool, while idle dancers stood around in clusters nearby. A spectacle from this new vantage point was a jacuzzi which was typically the next stop after the shaving cream show for the two strippers typically involved in that. Their money was understandably soaked each time, and needed to be assembled and split between them, and they could accomplish this while also cleaning themselves off in the Jacuzzi. The wet money stuck, (and even stacked) to the glass wall of the Jacuzzi area, so it was fun to watch them slap bills on the wall in stacks of 5 or 10.
A couple of stools down from me, a petite dancer was sitting and she happened to see a passing customer with whom she'd likely had some sort of relations in the past, and before long the half-drunk guy was just about ready to expose himself for heightened sharing to a dancer whose own cooperation with everything else helped to bring him to that point.
Another surely American guy was so drunk that he was awkwardly gyrating in the middle of a random floor in front of most anything he could still make out to be female... as if that guy you see at a club all the time.
It didn't seem like long at all when the time arrived that I'd measured several hours of the scene already. With so many women there, just seeing a vast number of the options seems important when trying to guide your mind in any certain direction for a more personal interaction.
As so often happens at any strip club, early on you notice some starlet who really captures your mind... but then she goes away, and you can't even identify her again let alone will her to come around your area of the club anymore. If I interacted with... 20-25 dancers during the night, only one was such a person who spoke no English, while I essentially speak no Spanish.
If I could do my entire evening over again... I would pluck this one dancer who had the most awesome puffy nipples which accounted for fully 1/3 of the altitude of her small, conular breasts... from the stage, for lap dances (at $1 each!!) at the very least, and probably a trip "upstairs" (translation: "arriba").
Alas, I was staring so much at her remarkable breasts that I didn't retain enough identifying attributes to ever notice her again.
There was a time when I pondered seeking out the earlier 2-drink girl for a trip upstairs, because she later looked plenty bored there, and I'd already ascertained that she was conversive and had the potential to be engaging, at the very least.
It wasn't too much longer that another shaving cream show commenced, with the same two dancers from the previous rendition... and one of those was a fresh-faced, makeup-free girl whose eyes seemed to be able to snag the attention of most anyone, from well across the room. They went through the same routines as before... complete with the double dildo, first simultaneously sucked and then simultaneously fucked... the one girl's torso so generously participating with her partner as her eyes scanned the room looking for something to lock-onto. She ensnared plenty of up-close viewers into her lair... and much shaving cream seemed to decorate each once she was done with them.
Yet this was a fresh-faced, gentle-seeming lass who didn't really seem the busty, blond and extremely outgoing stereotype more typical for gyrating around in shaving cream and oil in front of an eager audience.
Speaking of blonds... with society being what it has evolved to be, there was a considerable representation there of multiple haircolors and hair styles surely not reflective at all of the pure genetics known to most latinas.
Fake breasts were plentiful as well, along with mutiple enhanced rear ends in addition.
Then again there was another shared trip to the Jacuzzi after the two same partners finished their shaving cream and oil show... again with stacks of received tips first laundered and then hung to somewhat-dry on the glass wall of the Jacuzzi area. By then I couldn't look away while trying to catch the one girl's eyes casing the room as she stacked her cheese.
Suddenly, well... I did look away... and the new item of my intrigue had disappeared from the water, and was now out of sight.
By now my mind had focused on (the idea of) her, and I figured I'd at least investigate her demeanor further before becoming inspired to go upstairs with anyone. Meanwhile there were many pauses in front of me by women seeking $1 tips for a bit of fondling, and I guess I touched more ripe young breasts in one evening than ever before... and I am not one to assertively seek-out such interaction.
I am guessing that had the amazing puffy nipples bared themselves before me again in any capacity that I would have immediately sought them out for close or closer encounters, but that never happened.
Eventually the shaving cream girl reappeared on the horizon, and then went up a (different) staircase (alone)... before returning and heading in the wrong direction. Sacrificing another seat, I embarked upon a reconnaissance mission which was at first fruitless, but later unearthed the sweet lass of my interest, who I then approached with more intent.
We sat together and I bought us drinks as we chatted a bit. Her English was good enough, and we wrapped casual arms around one another as we talked. Eventually I inquired directly about going upstairs, and she gave prices clearly up front, which I thought was a good idea for me. She assured me condoms were there for her to use, and soon off we went.
Oddly, you have to go outside onto the street for a few steps before ascending a staircase to the hotel above.
Cost-wise there were zero suprises, and the half-hour was a surprisingly adequate time for a full encounter entailing DATY, full service, and a brief, comfortable shower during the 30-35 minute window. (comfortable far more due to the smoke downstairs than due to anything about her I wouldn't want to keep on me). This was a gentle and demure soul who was every bit a delightful encounter in private, in some ways seeming so far away from the spirit who would tend to be so exciting in shaving cream. If I went back to find the same crew of girls, my first two trips upstairs would be this same girl, and the one with the puffy nipples. One a raw lusting for body parts, and the other such an enjoyable encounter that it would be silly to guess at another being better.
Because it was nearing 3:00am I figured I should return to the border vs. returning to the 24-hour club.
In place of the 8-person limo at that hour there were a string of cabs hovering about, and the well-spoken concierge? out front summoned one for me, and told me it was a free ride to the border and that I need only tip the driver for the service.
(side note: when reading about actually cabbing to Zona Norte from the Mexico side of the border, I read in one spot to "(skip the black and white cabs you see right inside Mexico, because they sometimes coerce more money out of you in some sort of a rip-off scam... and instead await the orange cabs found a bit farther into Mexico on foot, which are more reliable)"... on this night my ride was indeed one of those black and white cabs, but I expect strongly that they are *incentivized* just right, by the club itself, so as to assure prompt delivery to the border of American customers who may come back.)
All in all this was an amazing experience, but the mind must process the concept of being in a room with 125-150 women perhaps all eager to let you have your sexual way with them for what is a decent-enough price for them... and then contemplate how best to sort out who, when, and how often.
If I went there again next week, I think I would arrive sufficiently rested, at a time more conducive to my own eventual Hatrick (oh how I miss Hatrick on Perb...), and I would do a slightly better job of hitting the ground running... before resting between shots on goal... (with all of the beautiful scenery at the club). All in all I was there 7 hours, and I don't even know that I spent $200 total.
The room was peppered with what frat boys would call "7's" and "8's"... many having abandoned nature and opted to try to look in one or more ways like they believe society wants them to look. There are enough blonds in the crowd to complement the many black-haired latinas who were sure to be so plentiful.
It could be reasonably opined that there were too many girls there on the night I enjoyed... because they were taking up precious seats, and standing around in large clusters... BUT if that were organized a bit better, then perhaps it could be even more of a captivating environment.
I did not heed the online advice about going with a friend your first time. I boldly went to TJ well after dark, knowing minimal Spanish, and I never had a worrisome encounter anywhere, and I would recommend the idea to anyone at all curious about such an environment, and I suggest a strong probability of your having no problematic encounters there either.
I can NOT speak as to what it would be like to arrive there solo and leave there drunk and solo, but the women are wonderful and the male workers accommodate northerners as well as can be imagined in a fairly well-run organization (perhaps the cartels?).
But the reputation of the clubs means everything to the operators of it, so that is their main incentive.
I'd never before even been to Zona Norte and there is only SO much you can think you understand from watching YouTube and other various videos of the local scene.
When first considering an actual foray into Mexico I thought it wise to reduce my loss potential by sorting through stuff I couldn't actually NEED in MX and leaving that in the trunk of my rental vehicle.
I then divided my cash on hand and stashed some of it in hidden pockets (which would surely have been discovered by bad guys who were out to get me).
(side note: DON'T wait until you've scouted out the U.S. side of the border for all of the important landmarks before only then wanting to drive far enough away so as to be spotted by no one when prepping your belongings for such a seeming risk, or you'll end up driving forever, as I did, when wanting a spot where I could be inconspicuous as I prepped {sorting wallet, sorting items in coat pockets, etc.** )
Upon entering Mexico I didn't even know whether I wanted to get a room for the night at a Zona Norte hotel (for about $60) vs. a potential 30-minute stay with a lady for $19, but I'd read somewhere that carrying luggage into MX is (the wrong) sign to both potential crooks and crooked police as well.
So there are two pedestrian crossings from California into Tijuana, and they are Ped East and Ped West, which is the newer of the pair.
Ped east is the one adjacent to the Trolley stop which is so easy to reach from San Diego.
Park in the lot behind the Jack-in-The-Box which is adjacent to the Trolley Stop.
$12 U.S. gets you either 8 hours or 12 hours of parking, and you pay your first $12 upon arrival and then get a time-stamped ticket which will require added funds upon your exit IF you stay longer than whatever the correct amount of time is.
So, you've got your paperwork in order, and you're on to Mexico.
Cross the street from the trolley stop, and lots of people will be around, many toting packages upon packages all procured from U.S. stores before they return to Mexico.
Look for a "blue building" (perhaps more easily identifiable as such during daylight hours), and keep walking with many others toward and through a secure one-way turnstile, the other side of which has you in Mexico.
Before long on what is likely a safe path (between the point-of-no-return behind you, and the Mexican border officials ahead of you (no where for would-be thieves to really escape) you reach a fork in the road:
one side says "Mexicanos" and the other "Foreigners". At 7:30pm, well after dark, everyone else was going through the Mexicanos path, and the path for "Foreigners" was still clearly open, but all of the barriers perhaps used earlier for line organization were put aside, and nobody else was there but me. You let the official look at your passport, and m-m-m-m-most likely you will breeze right through. (perhaps his main concern is that you will be eligible to return to the U.S. given their more strict scrutiny and standards)
Soon you continue on a one-way, formal path until you re-enter the night air... and almost immediately you will spot an orange and white sign which says "Zona Shuttle", and before it you take very few unmonitored steps in Mexico. In front of a tiny building is a shuttle stop, with a man there attending it. (if it is 90F degrees and ungodly humid there is a tiny office-like place where you can perhaps be in an air conditioned environment as you await the shuttle) (the office and some amenities there were offered to me, but as it was 55F and after dark, I thought I'd wait outside for the driver who was summoned immediately by this very friendly and never-worrisome attendant).
I was escorted to the back of an 8-passenger limo, where I was the only passenger for what was a free ride... though I happily tipped the driver $3.
The trip was a brief one, along uncrowded back streets and without much scenery or concern.
Soon I was let out the door in front of the Hong Kong Club, which is the most popular there.
Two security men formally checked my pockets and scrutinized some of my things, which I happily showed them were of no concern security-wise.
Let me state with emphasis that EVERYONE I needed to deal with (before getting to the girls) spoke very conversive English and that while I speak no serious Spanish beyond a few words, I never had a hint of language barrier with anyone male on the entire journey.
Let me also state with emphasis that if you can't handle the ways of old with thick cigarette smoke at such a venue, then you don't want to experiment with the Hong Kong Club in Tijuana!!
So I walked in... and young women were dancing everywhere... and the place has 3 floors, one of which was unused on this off night... and I guess I would estimate there were perhaps 200 men spread thoroughly around the open areas along with what could have been 125 to 150-ish young women, any of whom could presumably be inspired upstairs for perhaps $80-100 for 30 minutes of full service. (the rental of the room for 30 minutes costs $19)
It took a while to find a seat... so I just kept walking around each floor while investigating the environs as I went. Eventually I happened upon a spot, and soon after a male waiter came and brought me a sealed can of Coca Cola for $4 (no cover charge at HK).
Not so long after that, young women happened along, some planting themselves purposefully in my lap. When this happened, it was common for a male waiter to come along and gently ask if I'd like to buy the lady a drink, for $9. (the $9 helps toward their paying their nightly rent to the club, and each would clearly give her name to the waiter to be written down immediately after)
Every few minutes a girl would say something akin to: "Un dollar tip for me?" (often after gyrating in my lap while pleasantly received). Observing in all directions I saw lots of customers fully fondling these young women without restraint, and I'm certain that I could have gotten plenty of mileage for a succession of $1 tips. In fact, somewhere before or during a 2nd drink purchased for one woman, she was stroking me through my pantleg with major intent, while making suggestive reference to what she may have felt.
A couple of other brief visitors leaned toward my ear and whispered "sucky-sucky-fucky-fucky upstairs", while trying to entice me to take them upstairs for full service.
Soon, the stage a half-meter from me evolved to have a shaving cream and oil show on it... including fully nude, double-dildo co-penetration, AND a condom on the end of a specially modified power drill used by one stripper to fully penetrate the other stripper at any given time.
Eventually a customer peeled off all but his skivvies and got on stage, laid down upon the shaving cream and oil, and had the girls putting more shaving cream upon him, before one then rode his face (full contact) as the other rode his torso. It was then that one of the strippers splashed shaving cream beyond the stage, and I got slightly hit, so I gave up my seat and resumed walking around the club.
After a while I returned less near to the shaving cream stage, and sat on a bar stool, while idle dancers stood around in clusters nearby. A spectacle from this new vantage point was a jacuzzi which was typically the next stop after the shaving cream show for the two strippers typically involved in that. Their money was understandably soaked each time, and needed to be assembled and split between them, and they could accomplish this while also cleaning themselves off in the Jacuzzi. The wet money stuck, (and even stacked) to the glass wall of the Jacuzzi area, so it was fun to watch them slap bills on the wall in stacks of 5 or 10.
A couple of stools down from me, a petite dancer was sitting and she happened to see a passing customer with whom she'd likely had some sort of relations in the past, and before long the half-drunk guy was just about ready to expose himself for heightened sharing to a dancer whose own cooperation with everything else helped to bring him to that point.
Another surely American guy was so drunk that he was awkwardly gyrating in the middle of a random floor in front of most anything he could still make out to be female... as if that guy you see at a club all the time.
It didn't seem like long at all when the time arrived that I'd measured several hours of the scene already. With so many women there, just seeing a vast number of the options seems important when trying to guide your mind in any certain direction for a more personal interaction.
As so often happens at any strip club, early on you notice some starlet who really captures your mind... but then she goes away, and you can't even identify her again let alone will her to come around your area of the club anymore. If I interacted with... 20-25 dancers during the night, only one was such a person who spoke no English, while I essentially speak no Spanish.
If I could do my entire evening over again... I would pluck this one dancer who had the most awesome puffy nipples which accounted for fully 1/3 of the altitude of her small, conular breasts... from the stage, for lap dances (at $1 each!!) at the very least, and probably a trip "upstairs" (translation: "arriba").
Alas, I was staring so much at her remarkable breasts that I didn't retain enough identifying attributes to ever notice her again.
There was a time when I pondered seeking out the earlier 2-drink girl for a trip upstairs, because she later looked plenty bored there, and I'd already ascertained that she was conversive and had the potential to be engaging, at the very least.
It wasn't too much longer that another shaving cream show commenced, with the same two dancers from the previous rendition... and one of those was a fresh-faced, makeup-free girl whose eyes seemed to be able to snag the attention of most anyone, from well across the room. They went through the same routines as before... complete with the double dildo, first simultaneously sucked and then simultaneously fucked... the one girl's torso so generously participating with her partner as her eyes scanned the room looking for something to lock-onto. She ensnared plenty of up-close viewers into her lair... and much shaving cream seemed to decorate each once she was done with them.
Yet this was a fresh-faced, gentle-seeming lass who didn't really seem the busty, blond and extremely outgoing stereotype more typical for gyrating around in shaving cream and oil in front of an eager audience.
Speaking of blonds... with society being what it has evolved to be, there was a considerable representation there of multiple haircolors and hair styles surely not reflective at all of the pure genetics known to most latinas.
Fake breasts were plentiful as well, along with mutiple enhanced rear ends in addition.
Then again there was another shared trip to the Jacuzzi after the two same partners finished their shaving cream and oil show... again with stacks of received tips first laundered and then hung to somewhat-dry on the glass wall of the Jacuzzi area. By then I couldn't look away while trying to catch the one girl's eyes casing the room as she stacked her cheese.
Suddenly, well... I did look away... and the new item of my intrigue had disappeared from the water, and was now out of sight.
By now my mind had focused on (the idea of) her, and I figured I'd at least investigate her demeanor further before becoming inspired to go upstairs with anyone. Meanwhile there were many pauses in front of me by women seeking $1 tips for a bit of fondling, and I guess I touched more ripe young breasts in one evening than ever before... and I am not one to assertively seek-out such interaction.
I am guessing that had the amazing puffy nipples bared themselves before me again in any capacity that I would have immediately sought them out for close or closer encounters, but that never happened.
Eventually the shaving cream girl reappeared on the horizon, and then went up a (different) staircase (alone)... before returning and heading in the wrong direction. Sacrificing another seat, I embarked upon a reconnaissance mission which was at first fruitless, but later unearthed the sweet lass of my interest, who I then approached with more intent.
We sat together and I bought us drinks as we chatted a bit. Her English was good enough, and we wrapped casual arms around one another as we talked. Eventually I inquired directly about going upstairs, and she gave prices clearly up front, which I thought was a good idea for me. She assured me condoms were there for her to use, and soon off we went.
Oddly, you have to go outside onto the street for a few steps before ascending a staircase to the hotel above.
Cost-wise there were zero suprises, and the half-hour was a surprisingly adequate time for a full encounter entailing DATY, full service, and a brief, comfortable shower during the 30-35 minute window. (comfortable far more due to the smoke downstairs than due to anything about her I wouldn't want to keep on me). This was a gentle and demure soul who was every bit a delightful encounter in private, in some ways seeming so far away from the spirit who would tend to be so exciting in shaving cream. If I went back to find the same crew of girls, my first two trips upstairs would be this same girl, and the one with the puffy nipples. One a raw lusting for body parts, and the other such an enjoyable encounter that it would be silly to guess at another being better.
Because it was nearing 3:00am I figured I should return to the border vs. returning to the 24-hour club.
In place of the 8-person limo at that hour there were a string of cabs hovering about, and the well-spoken concierge? out front summoned one for me, and told me it was a free ride to the border and that I need only tip the driver for the service.
(side note: when reading about actually cabbing to Zona Norte from the Mexico side of the border, I read in one spot to "(skip the black and white cabs you see right inside Mexico, because they sometimes coerce more money out of you in some sort of a rip-off scam... and instead await the orange cabs found a bit farther into Mexico on foot, which are more reliable)"... on this night my ride was indeed one of those black and white cabs, but I expect strongly that they are *incentivized* just right, by the club itself, so as to assure prompt delivery to the border of American customers who may come back.)
All in all this was an amazing experience, but the mind must process the concept of being in a room with 125-150 women perhaps all eager to let you have your sexual way with them for what is a decent-enough price for them... and then contemplate how best to sort out who, when, and how often.
If I went there again next week, I think I would arrive sufficiently rested, at a time more conducive to my own eventual Hatrick (oh how I miss Hatrick on Perb...), and I would do a slightly better job of hitting the ground running... before resting between shots on goal... (with all of the beautiful scenery at the club). All in all I was there 7 hours, and I don't even know that I spent $200 total.
The room was peppered with what frat boys would call "7's" and "8's"... many having abandoned nature and opted to try to look in one or more ways like they believe society wants them to look. There are enough blonds in the crowd to complement the many black-haired latinas who were sure to be so plentiful.
It could be reasonably opined that there were too many girls there on the night I enjoyed... because they were taking up precious seats, and standing around in large clusters... BUT if that were organized a bit better, then perhaps it could be even more of a captivating environment.
I did not heed the online advice about going with a friend your first time. I boldly went to TJ well after dark, knowing minimal Spanish, and I never had a worrisome encounter anywhere, and I would recommend the idea to anyone at all curious about such an environment, and I suggest a strong probability of your having no problematic encounters there either.
I can NOT speak as to what it would be like to arrive there solo and leave there drunk and solo, but the women are wonderful and the male workers accommodate northerners as well as can be imagined in a fairly well-run organization (perhaps the cartels?).
But the reputation of the clubs means everything to the operators of it, so that is their main incentive.