Monday, October 16, 2006

Nightmare Square

Here's some shit...

In a nod to taking a thirty pound shit on everything I believe in, I actually went to West Chelsea the other night. As a customer. I had never done this before. As much shit as I talk/write here about the area, I had never before experienced Nightmare Square from your perspective. Like I always say at the club, "The first time I ever set foot in this place was my first night at work." Crobar? Spirit? Marquee? Quo? Home? BED? Do I work there? Did I ever work there? Who the fuck knows? Who the fuck cares?

All I know is that I wouldn't be caught dead waiting in line to get into any of these places, and it's not because they're not "good." I'll make one admission here in the interest of illustrating my point: I don't work at Marquee.* I've never even looked in the door. I do, however, know a few guys who've worked there, and I've walked down Tenth Avenue several times when their line has been in full force. From what I've heard, it's still a halfway decent place to go, if you're into that sort of thing. When you go there, you're not walking into anything remotely approaching the Guido Inferno I have to deal with at my place.

I could easily get us into Marquee, too. In fact, I could probably find a way to get us in anywhere in New York. Any club, any street, any neighborhood, anytime -- odds are, I know someone who works there, or I know someone who knows someone who can call someone who works there. No problem. Access isn't the issue.

The point is, I wouldn't try. I mean, what the fuck's the point of these places? The music sucks cock, the drinks cost too much, everyone around you is bound, by natural law, to be an asshole, and I don't like shouting in peoples' ears and calling it conversation. Fuck that. There's something psychologically wrong with anyone who considers patronizing these places to be a good time. I'm convinced of this fact.

That said, I was one of you last week. Obviously, this pilgrimage wasn't my idea, but I went along for the ride and didn't make waves. Someone had reserved a (non-bottle service) table, so I went. I wasn't thrilled with this plan, but since I'm taking such pains to cultivate an image of accommodation, I decided I'd make the best of things and hold off on my litany of complaints until the following day. So, fine.

And everything was going along swimmingly -- really -- until something reminded me that West Chelsea is the worst non war-torn place in the world. This had nothing to do with Guidos -- there weren't any in evidence -- or fighting, or sluts, or crackheads, or seizures, or bouncer belligerence, or any of it. It had to do with the fact that I'm all too familiar with New York and its bullshit, and the knowledge that you can't get away from it when you're enough of a stooge to agree to a night in Hades.

"What did you guys order?" asked a waitress, approximately two minutes after a different waitress had brought us a fresh round of drinks, which, by popular demand, was going to be our last.

"I had a Stoli Orange on the rocks," I replied, "and I'm not sure what the others had. Why? Was there a problem with the tab?"

"Oh, no. No problem. We just made your order twice."


"We have your next round made already," she said.

"I don't understand."

"Your drinks are already made, so I'll bring them over now."

"That's okay," I said. "This is our last round."

"But they're sitting at the bar."

"O-kay, but we didn't order them yet."

Nice try, honey, but I'm from Queens, not fucking Kansas. I'm not about to be coerced into spending another fifty bucks by the old -- yet pleasantly new to me, if only in a comedic sense -- "We already made your drinks" routine. Are you fucking kidding me over there in West Chelsea? Sure, it's a pretty good hustle, but it's vaguely insulting, don't you think? Does anyone actually fall for this shit? Are there people who'd acquiesce to this crap? "Oh my God!" they'd exclaim, assuming they exist. "I'm so sorry! I don't want our duplicate drink order to go to waste! Let me choke down this fourteen dollar drink so I can hurry up and fork over some more money and get to the next one before all the ice melts!"

I had no idea. I feel so sorry for you people.

* I'm sure there are hotter places in New York right now than Marquee. In fact, I know there are. I'm using Marquee as an example here, however, because it's what I'm familiar with, and because I don't give enough of a shit to know any other example to cite.