This will be the absolutely LAST time I walk into this god-forsaken nightclub! I just wanted to hear different music (and by different, I don’t mean a 16-minute Whitney Houston dance remix). After traipsing through W. 6th for a blah night, we made a stop in because of some Victoria Secret’s Fashion Show. Yeah, $10/person cover on a Thursday night, whatever. We paid the shitty entry fee, walked upstairs and there were no women around at ALL, let alone a fashion show.
While at the god-forsaken hell place on earth, walked up to us and said, “My friend is the best guy at the bar… feel his chest.” Neanderthal, please move out of my refund-way.
We waited 20 minutes for “Adam” to come down to return our cover charge to us (which by this time, everyone was walking in for FREE). Some gentleman, also waiting for his refund, gave us a $20, and told us he’d take it up with the owner, and shoved us along quickly out the door.
Moral of the story (since I’m so divulged within my moral ethics to my community): Don’t go to Traffic! I’m a model, duh.
Related posts:
- Is it a poop joke? Ladies & Gentlepenises, Exhibit WTF: What the fuck does it...
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
