"I never slapped my own ass at TEN'S," one seasoned stripper confesses of this decidedly upscale "world class cabaret" where her undergrad co-workers included a Columbia economics major with a $200 wig, an "All-American" look, and the requisite spike heels and sheddable "cocktail" dress. "The food, the fun, the fantasy" is the slogan at this well-organized, three-stage joint; just prepare to run into people on your lap-dancing shift like your corporate brother-in-law out with the "team" or dudes who can't believe you know the names of their prep school—and if you're a customer, don't treat "Heather" like an idiot.