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Monday, February 12, 2007

Bittersweet at Bitterball 2007

Ok, I will give you five seconds to crack a joke, but only five.

Last Saturday I headed over to the "new" Velvet Room, for Q100's Bert Show Bitterball; a party for singles.

The reason I went is obvious, I'm single now, and when a friend told me about the thing, I thought, hey why not.


Well, I kinda had forgotten why I don't do the "club scene" anymore. Sure, the place was packed with 21-35 year olds (mostly) giving quick glances to anyone that brushed past their shoulders, but it was the kind of crowd that kept hollering back to the DJ when, after his laptop crashed (or something) and caused the music to stop, he kept urging everyone to chant "the roof is on fire!"

The music was just what you'd expect from Q100, all the "hits," and that sort of thing. It cemented my belief that some popular clubs just don't have soul. (I guess that's the case with anything "popular").

I don't remember the "old" Velvet Room; but the this place was HUGE.

Housed where the former Vallehoos (or so they say) used to be, the

"new" Velvet Room could easily fit 2,000 people. And that's my best

educated guess because the place is literally, the size of a warehouse.

As far as the experience goes, I can't complain; I assume this kind of

event gets put together to draw the crowd it did, so all the logistics

were properly in place.

I did get there late, past midnight, so I missed out on all the

pre-party shenanigans; I didn't get a chance to get me one of the

pick-up lines they were advertising as being readily available for

everyone. I was number 1905 (I think) but I didn't notice where the

message board was. And I was not able to secure an artificial rose,

complete with a built in light. Cute.

The best part, though, was when I hit the dance floor and tried to do

my thing. I met two very nice ladies who were dancing by themselves;

when I got close, they didn't back away, but rather kept dancing and

acknowledged their OK with me dancing next to them.

Some dude rolled up and got close to girl #1 (the music was so loud, it

was worthless to speak, so no names for now), while girl #2 and me

paired away.

Out of nowhere comes friend of girls #1 and #2, clearly tipsy, and with

what looked like residue from just frenching her man. She then pulls

girl#2 away from me while cordoning off her group by the bar we were

next to.

I walked up to her and, as polite as possible, made sure she was able to hear me, regardless of the decibels

"Why are you pulling her away from me?" I said, (girl #2 just obliged mum).

"Uhm, she doesn't need to be dancing, and she has a boyfriend," she offers back.

"....!" I, or rather, my face said; "you know this is a single's party, right?"

"Oh, I'm single; she's not!"

Sure she was single; I mean, she was the one making out with some dude by the bar while girl #2 and I danced to some JT.

Whatever, I thought; I gather myself by the bar, meet up with my friends, down two J�ger shots and mingled.

We walked around, tried to settle in another area, but wound back right

by the same bar, next to the same group of girls. Oh, BTW, girl #1 was

still dancing with the other dude.

A few songs go by, we just chill; by this time, other dude had left,

and girl #1 was dancing by herself. I must admit, she was the cuter of

the two.

I decided to move in and try to dance with her; again, she smiles, props-up in front of me, and keeps dancing.

This time I get a name, Ariana?, I'm not sure, but she did say she was from Greece.

"Athens?" I joked.

"No; Greece". She didn't get it.

We kept dancing but, lo and behold, here comes friend #3, obviously

drunk, and with her man grabbing her arm to get back to their bump n'

grind session.

"No way," I thought. "How nice for these two beautiful, presumably

non-single girls to come out to a Singles party with their

less-than-attractive friend so she can hook up; 'cause she clearly did,

and they didn't."

Friend #3 just grabs Ariana and runs away, all their bewildered friends just follow, Ariana glances back and apologizes.

"I'm sorry..."

For a minute I think she tried to say something else, but I just nodded in contempt; "it's alright," I said.

But what the fuck was her friend's problem?

Photo by Ben Rose /



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