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| - First of all, getting into this place is as tough as getting an invite to the grammys. So unless you got a hook or are depending on a uber-early arrival, Consider your time wasted. The line is non existent. Rather it's just a huge pit of Las Vegas goers hoping that flashing some skin or money will get them in. Once through the ropes, go up the escalator, then through a corridor. Welcome to Vanity.
I'm thinking. Shoot, this place looks like a CAVE. The dance floor is OK, there are more "VIP" tables than space to mingle, and the music is a melange... You know, the kind of mix where you get off the dance floor cause the music sucks so bad, but once you're waiting in line for alcohol, there's that ONE song that comes up... How unsatisfying.
And then... The bathroom. I'm a woman, so I can't speak for the men at this club, but the bathroom MUST be why this place is called vanity. There's a grip or chicks hanging loose in here on elite-looking couches, mirrors with lightbulbs so attracting, your face is begging you to stare... Then we got the downside. The security in the bathroom is even more tighter than by the bars. The woman was going through the bathroom stalls, knocking, and even PEERING through the holes to make sure there was no party foul. I'm all for maintaning your alcohol, or drinking responsibly, and all that jazz, but come on lady, let me pee without your eye through the peephole. It's such a major disgust knowing you're on it...
Vanity is ... OK.
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