Thursday, July 28, 12:04 a.m. A loud cry of "Shots!" yanks me from my text-messaging concentration. Mixed in among the slot machines outside Bellagio's Caramel lounge, a beautiful girl of about 23 whimpers in the arms of an equally stunning compatriot. The villain is the boyfriend, and his crime appears to be not having noticed the 4 pounds she lost in preparation for this trip to Vegas. He is absent, at the tables perhaps. The comforter intends to provide her charge with more than mere sympathy. Again, "Shots!" and then something to the effect of "Screw him! You're beautiful and you're in Vegas!" They disappear behind Caramel's sable curtains and into the thick of the crowd.
When I see them later, they are both mussed up just a bit, dewy from their dance efforts at Light, their skin likely scented from kamikazes and lemon drops. I can't be certain; I didn't get close enough to sniff them.
Inside Caramel, my eyes adjust to the candlelight just in time to save myself from getting winded by the narrow, waist-high table bisecting the square space. The slender, glowing island is dotted with forgotten drinks and fresh flowers. On the low tables, chunks of wheat grass live in little china bowls. Like the late-night crowd, I doubt they have spent much time in daylight.
The rest of the room is a plush, caramel-chocolate dream, like the interior of a Rolo or Caramello candy, but with leather booths and bottle service. I want to sink into a dark corner and gush with girlfriends, or maybe perch at the bar with its Cristal-lined shelves and mirrors, talking serious business about bottom lines and such. But we're on a schedule. Thursdays are not for parking one's self, even with the fun mix of rock and hip-hop being spun by Vegas newcomer DJ Mikee of Brooklyn. Our server, from the Bronx, tells us that on Bounce Thursdays, guests are invited to start their evening off in the luxurious intimacy of Caramel, then "bounce" across the hall to Light to enjoy very upscale hip-hop with a very upscale crowd. So off we bounce, doing our best to make her proud.
With its inconspicuous doors shut, Light might be just a portal to Bellagio's back-of-house. But when the velvet ropes appear and the tall panels yawn open to reveal the twin escalators that go up, up, up, you would swear heaven was upholstered in heavy crimson velvet and carried a cover charge of $30.
Ah, the door. Think Studio 54 circa nineteen-seventy-you-ain't-getting-in-here. Ever. Not so much pandemonium as controlled chaos, a theory which clearly went into the construction. If you think you're important, stand here; if you know you are, then stand there; and if you aren't sure, then please get together and complain quietly about people in the two other lines. Make friends with your neighbors as you may be together for a long time. Men, your best bet is to pad your group with an equal number of women. Better still, bring two, three or four ladies per guy. A cheerleading squad or sorority pledge class should do it. You may owe them a drink once you get inside but at least you'll be inside.
Once admitted and up the escalators, my eyes must adjust again as we make our way down the mirror-and-wood-paneled corridor lit only by candles and which reverberates with the muffled beats and thumps of what's to come. We round the corner, then finally step into the low-ceilinged rectangular space that is three-fourths dance floor and one fourth Other. It is in the Other where the drinking, flirting, walking and breathing occur. On a busy night, meaning every night, all fourths are heavily populated. You may wish to escape to the restroom for a breather but that can be a clown car, as well.
The place is packed but I can still dance, stand, walk, use the ladies room and get a drink from another Cristal-lined, mirrored bar without having to suck it out of the front of my dress. On the dance floor, I am surrounded by East Coasters. Oren (born in my hometown of White Plains, New York) lives in Manhattan and came to Light tonight on another trustworthy New Yorker's advice. He's eloquent: "I like it. It looks like a New York City club." Hedy DiCarlo, just crowned second runner-up to Mrs. United States, is representing New Jersey—it says so on her sash. She agrees with Oren and likes the way DJ Eddie McDonald flows in and out of songs to make one long soundtrack for the night.
Wingman Jason suggests that perhaps it's time to "bounce." Groan. We entered by escalator and exit by elevator. After all, if you're waiting in line for an hour, do you really want to see people leaving? As I pass the doorman, I mention that I have yet to be bounced from Light. No dice, all I get is a spank on the ass with the VIP list.
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
[email protected].
Xania's Hot Spots for August 4 - August 10
Thursday, August 4
Caramel and Light: Bounce Thursdays
Mist: Rock 'n' Roll Wine presents Spun with DJ Alpine
Friday, August 5
Green Valley Ranch: Sunset Beach Happy Hour at the Pond with DJ Cottrell
Beauty Bar: The Get Back First Friday afterparty
Saturday, August 6
Seven: 4-year-anniversary party with Finland's DJ Darude
Sunday, August 7
Light: Locals/Industry Night
The Rio: Second annual Bacardi Bikini Invitational, $5,000 bikini contest
Tuesday, August 9
Studio 54: Debut of new Studio 54, Tabu and Teatro resident, DJ P
Wednesday, August 10
Ice: Win a date with Marc Jay, European Gigolo party
For more Hot Spots and weekly parties visit
www.TheCircuitLV.com and sign up for Xania's free weekly newsletter.