So, its Saturday night and you’re a douchebag who has no tangible social network – so its time to hit a club – but not just any club, an LA club.
LA clubs have a lot to offer. Lines, overpriced drinks, various strains of herpes, and most of all utter disdain for you.
In a display of psychological manipulation which could roughly be equated to Stockholm Syndrome, the owners of some of the largest upscale commercial real-estate companies in the country (including the SBE and Dolce groups), have found a way to brand renovated shoe repair shops into something approaching exclusivity. By waiting in their manufactured lines, subjecting yourself to their arrogant staffs, and paying a lot of money for cocktails, you’ll be granted the privilege of… standing in a crowded, albeit well-decorated bar with a bunch of sluts and idiots.
Its a real win win for the people who own these places – first, they get to make money off of you, and second, they get to drive by the lines outside of their clubs every night and laugh at you behind tinted windows as you stand slouch-shouldered and freezing your ass off like a fucking idiot, glancing at bar around the corner that can give you the same glass of Chivas for half the price and which features women who speak English.
That being said, here are a few reviews of my favorite LA clubs. I’ll be ranking them on the standard Herpes Scale.
1) Hyde. You should probably get tested. Hyde offers a cramped tiny space and a staff taken directly from the set of the last Steven Seagal movie. While in Hyde, you may opt for bottle service. This is where an establishment sells you a 30 dollar bottle of Grey Goose for anywhere from 200 to 2000 dollars depending on how much their clientele was beaten up in high school. Once the bottle arrives, a plethora of loose women may stop by and have a free drink from you before they blow Screech in the bathroom.
2) SoHo House. It’s probably just a reaction to the Axe. The SoHo House offers the more status oriented patron the ability to purchase a membership to the swanky establishment. It should be noted, however, that if you decide to spring for the several thousand dollar fee and don’t have your mortgage paid off, Alan Greenspan will arrive at your house on a chilly night when the wind howls and punch you in your dumb fucking face. Also available at the SoHo House are some celebrities who don’t want to talk to you.
3) The Colony. You have AIDS as well. You’ll leave smelling like Hawaiian Tropic and Newports. It can only come out by bathing your spray-tanned body in something non-synthetic and wholesome – preferably you should soak in Anne Hathaway’s breast milk for at least two hours upon leaving.
And that’s part I of my guide to LA clubs, stay tuned for more reviews in the future.
Douchelicious !