Why I Hate Going Out Downtown

Ok, so let's get past the whole superficiality and pretentiousness of spending twenty bucks on cover to have the privilege of paying twelve bucks for a watered down gimmick-tini. AND, let's look beyond the twenty minute drive and the cruising around looking for parking, not to mention the humiliation of trying to convince the bouncer that you're "on the list".

Now that we've gotten past all that, why, oh why, is there a need for the ridiculous dress codes found at the various clubs downtown? Not only are we forced to jump through all the hoops mentioned above, but the clubs also feel it's necessary for us to wear nice shoes and a collared shirt while doing so. I can maybe understand the need for a nice shirt, but why dress shoes? First off, it's too damn dark in there to see what shoes people are wearing, and second, I'm not particularly partial to wearing nice shoes to a crowded club just so clumsy drunks can step all over them.

Which brings me to the last time Jenn and I went out downtown with Jukebox, Demetrius and Linda. We had gone out to eat at a wine bar in Little Italy beforehand so I'm in a collared shirt with my blazer and dress shoes and although Juke's in a collared shirt also, he's got on a pair of tennis shoes. Demetrius would be meeting us later that night to hit up Sidebar, and since we knew he would be dressed casual, we stopped by and asked the doorguy what the dress code policy was. He said to me that as long as we had on a shirt with a collar the rubber shoes shouldn't be a problem.

Demetrius shows up and meets us wearing a t-shirt and a pair of chucks. We grudgingly decide to play musical chairs with our clothes so we can meet the stupid dress code. This is Dee trying to get my blazer on. Of course it didn't fit, but it was a valiant, if not hilarious, effort.



Dee ends up having to wear Juke's collared shirt. Luckily, Juke had on a white undershirt, so I gave him my blazer. By now, we've all got on collared tops, which, according to my previous convo w doorguy, means we're good to go. Was this enough to satisfy doorguy? Of course not, why would he make it any easier for us to have a good time (while spending money on cover and drinks)? The methodology of customer service through exclusivity seems to be the next trend in nightlife and I can't say I'm happy with it. It's akin to the takeaway sales technique used in marketing and just as stupid and ineffective.

While doorguy attempts to establish his alpha male dominance by enforcing the dress code, I decide to lie to him and tell him that I had called earlier and was told that what we were wearing would be fine. Finally, this somehow convinces him and he allows us to pass. Was all this worth it? Not really, which is why I've resolved to refrain from going out from now on, but is there hope? Please share your nightlife experiences in comments. Am I just a cranky old man who's lost his taste for the nightlife, or should I, rightfully, expect more from the nightlife experience?