In case you didn’t know this about me, I am a grandma. I thoroughly enjoy sleeping, and thus going to bed early. I am a huge fan of my couch, the brilliant invention of the DVR and sitting on my arse watching endless hours of Top Chef, Lost and The Real Housewives of New York City…drinking wine. (You could call me Grandma Lush.) If I’m out and about, I generally prefer restaurants or wine bars, with chill music, stimulating conversation and copious amounts of cheese. Needless to say – I am not what one would call a “club girl.” After burning myself out on that scene before I was even old enough to consume alcohol, I generally avoid the pumpin’, thumpin’, 5 am clubs as much as possible. That is…until I went to the Underground. On a Saturday.
Underground freakin’ rocks. Plain and simple. I haven’t had that much fun in a long, long time – hello being single! A word to the party-hungry-wise: the only way to roll when going to a place like UG is to roll like a VIP. It’s not pretentious, it’s just smart. And it’s surprisingly easy. I suggest calling ahead and reserving a table (bottles go for around $300, but split it with a couple girlfriends and it’s totally feasible). A table is key at a place like Underground. The crowd can get a little overwhelming and the space gets packed. Trust this non-pretentious party-goer: you will want your own personal nook where you and your friends can dance, drink and get crazy.
So let’s talk about the dancing, drinking and gettin’ crazy. Because this, my Cheekies, is why we come to Underground. Since we were a group of a bunch of Cheeky ladies, we decided to skip the typical bottle service and ordered a “Cosmo Kit.” A “table attendant” (AKA, some smoking hot guy with army fatigues on) drew out 12 martini glasses, a bottle of Grey Goose Citron, cranberry juice, Cointreau, lime juice and flaming lemon twists, and prepared us the strongest, most delicious Cosmos ever. And after, um, a few of those, it was dance time.
People dance everywhere at UG. On the floor, in the corners, on chairs, on the booths, on the platforms, on the freakin’ rafters, on each other. It is, no doubt, a par-tay. The DJ played everything from Biggie to Beyonce to Bon Jovi to Britney to Kelly Clarkson to Miley Cyrus. I think I forgot how much I actually love to dance until this past Saturday. I know now that if I ever want to feel a little bit of liberation, Underground is my place.
So as the story obviously goes, Underground kicked my sorry-grandma-ass to the curb. Instead, it called my 20-year-old-party-girl-rock-star out of hiding. (She’s pretty fabulous too.) But just for one night. That’s all this 27-year-old homebody could handle. That is, until next time….
