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| - Weird.
My friend is having a bachelor party and the groom's party decided to cough up $1000 for a table here. When I was informed of the price tag, I was not going to be satisfied with anything less than "getting high off the table". Well, we sure did get high, in elevation that is - our table was on the second floor. This is something akin to the emperor's box at the concert hall where you look down at common clubbers below with disdain. Now, for a thousand bucks, you'd think you wouldn't have to wait in a stupid line, but actually, we had to stand in a concise version of the regular, poor schmoe one.
After getting through the elite line, we were whisked up an elevator to our luxurious mezzanine, replete with women's restrooms. Restrooms with translucent doors. I exclaimed on arriving, "are those toilets?!". Yes, but apparently somebody changes the lighting when you go in to take a dookie so you can't see through them. Must be some European thing...
Our grand table ended up being smaller than my coffee table. Not even an Ottoman to put my feet up on. The stupid row seat didn't even have back cushioning across the whole length. Our table attendant was a nice lady in her underwear with an over-sized chest. I dunno about her, but it would be awkward for me to have a polite conversation with strangers and take orders in my boxers.
I walked downstairs to mingle with the peasants, and see why anyone would spend ridiculous amounts of money and wait 45 minutes in line to get in. Why anybody would spend more here than at a concert hall to listen to recorded Lady Gaga music is beyond me. Is it for the dancing? Yes, if you think extending your arms out and bending your knees 15 degrees and bobbing up and down is dancing. The "main" dance floor is a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. People pressed against you in every direction, women, men, old, and young, the weight of the world on you.
I managed to walk the whole club in about thirty minutes. I only found one reasonable room in one corner with the holographic budha heads (throwback to the 70's hologram craze?). They were playing some nice recorded top 40s music and you could choose not to be pressed by people. The strangest thing I found were the friends of our table attendant, also in their underwear. One of them had a mime act going, she was supine on a reclined chair and moving in some sort of slithering pattern. Another two of her friends appeared to be in a bathtub on stage.
What happens when you have more inebriated men than women? I found the answer to that after returning to my royal level, when a drunk male guest next to us decided to put on a dance show for me. Apparently, he didn't get the message from me when I turned my shaking head away in disgust and decided to do an encore.
After two hours of this nonsense, I finished my red bull, with enough energy in me to return to Green Valley. I give it three stars because I can't say it's worse than anything comparable since I can't recall any other club I've ever been to (albeit, not many) being any different.
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