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| - So we're (my husband, sister, two friends, and myself) walking through the Hard Rock checkin' out places to eat, when this guy stops us and asks to go check out some club. We SO are NOT club people. Seriously--we were only in town because my husband's band played at the Beauty Bar for a Punk Rock Bowling after party. I explain this to the dude. So does every other member of my party. We were not dressed for a night club. We don't like hiphop which is what he told us was going to be played. We were hungry and wanted to eat. And we really wanted to just go and lose our money at the Blackjack tables.
But the dude INSISTS we go. Telling us we'd be doing him this tremendous favor... That if we went he'd get us in for free, get us dinner for free, get us a round of drinks, and drink tickets for in the club.
He looked absolutely desperate--this was intensified by his use of a cane due to a broken leg. He walked away for a minute and we discussed our post dinner club strategy: Go in. Have one drink. Leave. We actually thought about ditching the club all together and just getting the free dinner, but he said if we didn't show up he'd lose his job. He was a handicapped, desperate, little man--it pulled at my heart strings!
He mentions there are like NO girls at the club and the ratio needs to be balanced. Okay, so he didn't exactly say it like that, but that was how I interpreted his asian hip hop slang. Aww... he needs us because we have VAGINAS! (4 out of 5 of us any)... No problem. We go, we leave.
We go into the restaurant in which we were supposed to get a comp'ed dinner. Instead we get an appetizer in the lounge/waiting area--no dinner; no table; no chair. Everyone else is in sexy dresses and we're there trying to balance plates and drinks while sitting on a couch in jeans looking pretty pathetic and out of place.
Whatever... no dinner, no biggie... We gamble til the club opens and at 11:00 we walk up the pretty sparkly mob outside the door. Our little friend finds us and I inform him that lines suck. So he walks us in and waves us past the girls collecting cover charges and down into this cute psuedo goth but not cheesy dance club. He gives us an overview, points stuff out, and says: "So I'll need to collect a customary tip from you--$20 or $40 bucks a person usually."
HAHAHA.... Woah buddy. We told you a ridiculous amount of times that we don't like clubs, we didn't want to pay to get into somewhere we had no desire to go, and we weren't into hip hop.
So I'm guessing he was one of those VIP hosts that others have mentioned in their reviews. And hey, I'm sure they serve a purpose--if someone really wants to go they can pull some strings and for a little tip make it happen. That's great. The difference is: we did not want to go, he begged and bribed (literally) to get us to agree to go, and then said everything would be taken care of.
We. Were. HORNSHWOGGLED! Being dishonest sucks. Elijah was the dudes name... So get his promises in writing.
If you're into the club scene, great. Go for it. If not, skip the club, screw the VIP host, and spend your money on a hookers or stirppers or whatever suits your fancy.
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