A Bush America I think we can all vote for.
I liked this place, where a packed mixed crowd dances with equal abandon to Pussy Control and to Lynyrd Skynyrd.
I liked it, that is, after I picked my jaw off the floor and had a few beers. You kinda had to be there to know what I mean. If a lot of bars are like this maybe I need to get out more. (It was also a big contrast with Blue, one of uptown Charlotte's most romantic restaurants, where we'd been talked into dining by the TVT girls, in the new Hearst Tower and near the Touch My Building art work.)
I guess there could be feminist and/or conservative objections to this kind of place. It's part of a chain and seems to be sponsored by Playboy. It looked like a DIY strip club, or a gay club, but for heteros. Bizarrely I couldn't stop thinking of the Bush twins. It also felt like I'd fallen into MTV, or into one of those "Wild Spring Break" videos. But everyone really seemed to be having fun, so it was better than the photos suggest. Some things just can't be blogged.
I don't get it.
This looks like the kind of place that would be fun to go to once, but which could become depressing if you went there, say, twice a month for three months. Or twice.
I'm not sure if it would be depressing after a while. Maybe it worked for me because it was an exotic find with the TVT crowd. Spend a week locked up with machines and you too would get the bends in a place like this. Possibly it would be depressing if I went alone. But it also reminded me of the silly discos in Spain, easy-going, pure escapist fun.
You had a few girls who looked like Barbies, possibly a little silicone here and there, but mostly pretty ordinary people. No attitude.
OK, for something different, Vote Carrie?