Ok, so I don't really hate New York, but I do have a New York complaint and I figured that this title was a good contrast to the last one.
So my story begins and ends after midnight on Saturday night. My friend Candace was in town visiting some of her friends from college at the University of Chicago. After waiting more than 2 hours for their dinner reservations, Candace and her friends ended up at what I now know to be one of the hippest, trendiest, snobbiest clubs in the city. Because I am officially lame, I have spent 4 months in this city and have yet to attempt to go to an actual "club."
So Taylor and I left my apartment at about midnight (that's right, LEFT at midnight, how trendy am I). For some reason, I thought that a sweater would be the appropriate attire for the evening. So we arrived at PM, a trendy club in the meatpacking district, and Candace and her friends were already inside. There was a line of about 20 people next to the fabled velvet rope. I called Candace who confirmed that they were, indeed, inside said trendy club and that "it didn't take long to get through the line." But as we stood there, it became abundantly clear that the "line" was really just a crowd of people auditioning for admission to the club. It was incredible. I like to think that Taylor and I are a decent looking couple, but it quickly became apparent that the only way to get into this club was to flash some serious cleavage or pay the mean bouncers. Needless to say, at 2am, I am in no mood to schmooze with the bouncers, but I must admit that at some point I found myself feeling REALLY self-conscious in my sweater. And the more I thought about it, OBVIOUSLY Candace and her friends got in. Every group of more than three pretty girls virtually waltzed right in while those of us with boyfriends in tow are left watching them strut by. It was quite an interesting experience, and I must say it left me a little sad for all those people who really do spend their whole week waiting for the moment that they can walk into a club and finally feel important. It really must be an empty life, and, club or no club, I'm glad that my self-worth does not rest in getting in to PM to drink.
3 comments:
That's why I just stay at home and watch football on tv.
i would not get in either - except this one time i did go out in new york and stood by the fabled red velvet ropes and then the bouncer told us that his club stunk and we should go to a different one down the street. so we did. it did not have red rope or bouncers with an agenda. but they did want money. so maybe that was their agenda.
That reminds me of this one time I was in Akron for a wedding...four of us were staying at the hotel Friday night, and we decided to go check stuff out. We found a SPORTS BAR and decided we wanted to get a drink (or two, or three, or ten). When we walked up to the guys checking IDs, they said we couldn't get in because my two friends were wearing jerseys. That's right, no jerseys allowed in this SPORTS BAR this late at night. So the douche in the tight tshirt was okay...
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