| rev:text
| - I'm not really a club sort of guy. I like bars, especially ones with good bartenders. I really like clubs where you can hear live music. I also really like Vegas - but I want to gamble in Vegas. I also don't want to pay tons of money for my drinks. I'd rather a buxom woman in a costume that is meant to be sexy but instead comes off silly and a wee bit sad (especially if she's a wee bit too old to be wearing such an outfit) hand me a drink for free in recognition of the fact that I'm playing a game where the odds are not in my favor.
Speaking as a man who went to Mix one recent Friday night - the odds are not in my favor, and they will probably not be in your favor either, Sonny Jim.
My brother had his bachelor party in Vegas recently, and a local thought it would be a great idea for a bunch of us to go in on a table at Mix. Once we got there and learned it would be $50 a person, enthusiasm waned. Apparently, the local put the reservation on her credit card, so I was down $50 before even playing the tables... or getting a drink.
The elevator ride revealed the best part of Mix - the view. There's an outdoor patio area with fantastic views of the Strip. All night long there are a stream of sightseers and picture-takers hanging out there.
Our group settled into a decent-sized banquette, while a hostess prepared drinks. Our table came with a bottle of vodka, a bottle of champagne, a bottle of rum, and a bottle of whiskey... for 20 people. Luckily, the hostess knew how to make an old fashioned, and the whiskey was the least popular alcohol among my younger brother's friends - more for me.
The immediate downside of the club was noticeable. It was 10:00 p.m. and the place was nearly empty. Advertising portrays these exclusive nightclubs as the domain of the rich, the famous, the impossibly good-looking. Then you look up from your giant ice cube-covered bottle of "super-premium" vodka and realize that instead it's filled with people like you hoping to mingle with people not like you. At that point, you probably want to drink, and wouldn't you know it? Giant ice cube-covered bottle of super-premium vodka. With mixers!
One serious point of criticism. I'm a music fan, though I'm much more likely to be into indie rock than house or techno. I also currently live in the middle of nowhere. I should not know more about dance music than the DJ in a Las Vegas nightclub. The music was heavy on mashups and 80's retro. Seemed to me that this would be the perfect set for a some Girl Talk. After all, Feed The Animals is basically the Citizen Kane of mashup albums. So I asked the DJ (using the Notes feature on my iPhone as the club was impossibly loud even when near empty) to play some Girl Talk. He had never heard of Girl Talk or Feed The Animals. He was friendly and seemed interested in knowing more. But Feed The Animals was Blender's #2 recording of 2008. Time magazine wrote it up for crying out loud. It was exactly the genre of music that the club seemed to play for the 3+ hours I was there. Remember the previous paragraph? We've already established that I'm not cool. What if I'm not cool AND I'm the coolest one in the club? The mind boggles.
Did I mention the dance floor is about the size of my kitchen? That's also a big strike. So assuming you lived on the 64th floor of your apartment, had a bottle of something and a big ice cube, downloaded Feed The Animals off of the illegal art website, and were in your kitchen, you could have almost as much fun as I had at Mix, without the pricey cover.
On the other hand, it's probably worth a visit if you've got a group of friends willing to go in on bottle service with you, if only for one night of faux high-rolling.
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