Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Of Shot Boys, Age and Authenticity
"Cover's $4. Unless you're pretty enough. Then you don't have to pay." The doorman extended his hand to take my money - I didn't make the cut. I stepped into the darkened club, the sound of ear-piercing music vibrating through me, and made it to a balcony. Looking down, I saw a square raised podium, crammed with gorgeous, young writhing bodies and surrounded by a crush of pulsating people. And, flitting through the massed crowds, barely-clothed angels with trays of luminous nectar.
Bracing myself against the railing with one hand, the other cupping my ear to save at least half my hearing, I think to myself: "Wow. I'm unpretty, and I'm ten years too old."...
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