Saturday's travels included an evening out with my friend Josef (who, by the way, deserves a massive shout-out for helping me move a metric ton of boxes to Rockville in the rain), who is getting married a few months from now. I was fortunate enough to be in his close circle, and Saturday night were his official bachelor party festivities, which, typical to many, included an outing to a place I had never been before, the Nexus Gold Club--where I am pleased to report is found where gentrification will not soon be coming. So, hipsters, take note.
Here are five things you should know about the Nexus Gold Club:
- It is an object lesson in the economy of scale, apparently. For one dollar, you may either experience female pudenda being waved in your face or, alternatively, receive a hefty dollop of creamy soap from the bathroom attendant. This means if you have an active imagination and can carefully know when to avert your gaze, for two dollars, you can have a very interesting experience.
- If you've ever wondered where the DC people who are able to sit motionless for hours looking for all the world like they've just come from very smugly killing another human being with their bare hands hang out, wonder no more.
- The truth is, bad dancing can ruin the display of even the most aesthetically pleasing female form. I experienced this first hand, when I found I could not enjoy one of the stripper's acts because it looked for all the world that she was experiencing a massive grand mal seizure. I kept yelling: "Turn off those strobe lights! Can't you see that she's in pain?"
- You'd think that after the Michigan State-UNC game was over, the managers of the club would be shrewd enough to not tune in to twenty-minutes of full-team coverage of the Pope's death. Well, you'd be wrong. While I'm sure St. Genesius didn't mind, when the waitress came round and asked if I'd like another beer, I told her, "You're going to have to be bring me something a lot stronger if I'm going to be seeing the Holy Father in my peripheral vision all night."
- At last, a bar where telling someone: "Hey, nice cooter!" is not met with a face full of pocket tear-gas!