It would be natural to assume that the press conference announcing the arrival of the Las Vegas branch of Scores would be held at Las Vegas, but natural doesn’t count for everything at the gentlemen’s club that counts Howard Stern, Christina Aguilera, and Pamela Anderson as its greatest fans.

An event that was held at the chain’s dark and smoky outpost on West 28th Street at 2 p.m. yesterday afternoon was only a “press conference” in the loosest of terms. It had no press releases, no windy speeches, and no Q-and-A sessions. Only one reporter attempted to scribble into a notebook, though that may have been because there was barely enough light to write in.

“It’s a pretty easy event,” the publicist, a smoky-eyed woman who was walking through the crowd of male photographers with her arms tightly crossed over her stomach, said. “The hardest thing was getting the club to open up this early and getting the girls to show up.”

She went on to apologize for not having any additional information and suggested talking to Scores’ full-time spokesman, Lonnie Hanover. When pressed, Mr. Hanover, an unfathomably large man with shiny black waves falling all over his forehead, had a little more to tell. He knew that the new club would be the franchise’s biggest yet, at 30,000 square feet. He knew that 500 women in Las Vegas have already auditioned to work at the club, and half the 300 New York dancers are going to be assigned to Sin City. He knew the Las Vegas club has plans to attract West Coast celebrities.

“All the East Coast actors and rock stars come to Scores in New York,” he boomed. “The Hollywood actors need a place to go.”

The Las Vegas Scores will be the chain’s fifth club, with another in New York, one in Chicago, and one in Fort Lauderdale. The adult club industry has seen an uptick in franchises in recent years, with upscale brands such as Rick’s, the Hustler Club, and Spearmint Rhino selling their brands to independent clubs that are already licensed for naked dancing. The national executive director of the Association of Club Executives, a Naples, Fla.-based trade association of gentleman’s clubs, said the recognizable brands are helping to boost the industry’s luxury factor.

“People are still thinking of strip clubs as seedy joints with chicken wire and toothless entertainers,” the trade group official, Angelina Spencer, said. “They don’t realize these are emporiums of elegance in many cases.”

While waiting for the girls, most of the photographers were at the stage, busy setting up their angles. A few more confident types had settled in at the bar, where they were served free champagne by young girls with long hair and ready smiles.

A freelance photographer, Aubrey Reuben, who was there on behalf of Playbill, wore thick eyeglasses and spoke with a slight English accent. He looked as though he’d be more at home on a nature walk than on a stool at a strip club. The bartender told him she came from Schenectady and pushed a glass of champagne across the counter.

“Ah, and are you married?” Mr. Reuben asked.

“No,” she said, and she tossed her head back.

“And how big is your boyfriend?” She laughed and told him she didn’t have one.

“Ah, now you do.”

When his new girlfriend wandered to the other end of the bar, Mr. Reuben confided he was hoping a famous Scores alumna who has made a career as a star of adult films, Savannah Simpson, might show up.

“Savannah Simpson?” another man at the bar cut in. “Outstanding. Where is she?”

Finally, Lonnie Hanover appeared under the spotlight and the photographers stepped in as close to the edge of the stage as they could.

“I don’t want to bore you,” Mr. Hanover said. “In two minutes I’m going to bring out some gorgeous Scores girls. We can put them on the stage and have crazy group shots. We can separate them. We can mix them up.”

He pulled a silk handkerchief out of his jacket and wiped his face dry. “All right, let’s bring out some pretty girls. I’m going to put them on tables. There’s all sorts of places they can go.”

And finally, the “girls” came out, more girls than you could count. They had long hair and glossy lips, and their gravity-defying figures were bandaged up in different-colored Scores “gowns” featuring rhinestones and different cut out combinations. The girls looked a little lost, though it may have been on account of the early hour, and the photographers had to yell to them where to stand. The one girl who seemed to be enjoying herself was a Paris Hilton look-alike in a blond wig and a “gown” that had been cut out in the hip area to reveal a thick silver thong. “That’s hot,” she said to the sea of flashes. She thrust out her other hip. “That’s hot.”

Jeffrey Gurian, a spiky-haired producer for the fledgling National Lampoon radio network, watched the girls step down from the stage. He said he had come looking for talent for the radio station. Asked how he could make such a decision when none of them had actually spoken, he explained he just needed to find a special face. “I can sense a personality,” he said.

Mr. Reuben, the slight Englishman in the brown glasses, zeroed in on Celeste, a tall brunette from Florida. She had a sweet, shy way of speaking, answering questions with a giggly “yeah” or “kinda” or “kinda sorta.” She said she was covering for a friend, another Scores girl, who had been asked to participate but was reluctant to be on television. “I don’t mind,” Celeste said.

Mr. Reuben cupped her hands between his paws and told her he couldn’t help but notice that her figure looked natural.

“Head to toe,” she said, and she laughed.

“Ah, and are you married?”

She shook her head no.

“And how big is your boyfriend?”

She laughed and told him she didn’t have one.

“Ah, now you do.”