A Supposedly Fun Club I'll Never Patronize

by Conor Friedersdorf

Over at Sex, Drugs, And Bottle Service, we're presented with this rant:

Everyone always wants to be where they think they aren’t allowed.  Every night in my current job self proclaimed socialites are trying to get into the back rooms.  They seem to think there is a secret party room filled with models and celebrities drinking free Krug and blowing lines down there.  In reality what is down there are offices, liquor storage,  and boxes of napkins and candle votives, none of which are hiding Kate Moss.  These same people are the ones who come up expecting a free drink because they are friends with one of the owners.

“That’s fifteen dollars, sir.”

“Oh, but I’m friends with Redacted.”

“Really! So am I! Why don’t we text him? What’s your name again? Better yet, why don’t we go to his house and steal his flat screen? Cause it sounds like you are such good friends with him that you are allowed to steal from his business, so why not his home too?”

PS-Just because you did coke in the bathroom with an owner of a club at some point doesn’t mean you are friends with said owner.  Do you know how many people have done coke in bathrooms with these guys over the years? They don’t know your name.

Huh. I wonder why these customers are under the illusion that they're friends with the owner, that there are secret rooms filled with models and celebrities, and that doing coke in the bathroom with a club owner is an intimate act. Overpriced clubs that overcharge deuschy coked up customers for suckers vodka aren't exactly my scene... but I have a funny feeling that customers have these illusions because everyone employed in the author's industry labors mightily to create them. Is the cult of exclusivity absurd? Yes. And if you're working in bottle service you're an even bigger part of the problem than your customers.