A flourescent dragonfly

I have a flourescent yellow dragonfly stamped on the top of my left hand. It was placed there by someone who works at Club 216 - the late-night, members-only dance club in C'ville.

Last night I made what was my first and very likely my last appearance at the infamous Club 216. I was under the impression it was a gay bar. It is. I was also under the impression it was euro-trashy. It isn't really. I mean, it had the crappy techno beats, but not really much else - not the clothes, not the people, not the pretension. I was not under the impression that it also had the sketchiest clientele of any establishment in C'ville. It does.

I cannot nicely convey to you the environs of Club 216 except to say that it isn't really a place you want your mother to know that you have gone. Not just because it would disappoint her, but also because she would seriously worry about your safety while you were there and question your good judgment for entering in the first place.

It is beyond me why you have to be a "member" or know a "member" to get in. You can become a member on the spot, and I guess I understand it from a business perspective in terms of getting more money - but do you really? Because I think members get in free or something or at least for less price and if you're going to pay a flat fee once seems like you could rake in more money on regulars by just charging more for entry. But I digress.

I have at least gone once and my curiosity has been satisfied. One more check mark on things I have to do before I leave this place - and an interesting and enjoyable night nonetheless - the people watching was really enough entertainment to get me through the sketch factor, but intoxicated bad dancing is always a good time, too.

Now I've got to continue my Bar studying with lack of sleep and the distraction of the flutter of this damn flourescent dragonfly that won't wash the hell off!