"Rascal Flatts After Concert Party"
That was a red flag. A big red flag that waved ferociously through the sky warning me...no no...YELLING at me to not pay $20 to come in here. Only bad things could arise from going inside and mingling with the inevitable mass of country folks in this club. They might want to...I don't know...square dance with you!!
"Wait a second," I thought to myself. "Country folks don't go clubbing! They go doe-see-doe-ing at ho downs and such. I don't think they know what clubbing is. Let's just go in and get drunk!"
I was right. There were no country folks in there. As a matter of fact, there weren't that many people at all inside. 12:30am on a Saturday night and the place was barely half full? I suppose everyone else wasn't as adventurous as I was and were scared off by the "Rascal Flatts After Concert Party" advertisement. I also should have known something was fishy when they let us 6 guys go in without hesitating to realize we had no females in our group. Desperation to have people in there? Yup.
Impressive: 8 shelves stacked with bottles of rum and the skanky girls dancing in suspended cages (...it was very bootylicious).
Unimpressive: The older crowd (wrong night to go), the near-empty dancefloor in the very back of the club, and the size of the club was smaller than it looked from the outside.
Mental note: Go to a strip club next time. Lapdances rule over everything.