Sunday, 2 a.m., Body English. I pledge allegiance to the club, and to the high heels on which I stand, with Grey Goose and tonic for all.
"It's my Friday!" offers a young, new transplant from the Southern states. She's quite the lucky one, Sunday and Monday being the most coveted days off for casino and hotel workers. When the troubles and complications of the work week pile up to toppling height and culminate in a mind-bending Saturday fight night or some other equally devastating event, it's nice to know that on Sundays (the equivalent for many locals to a Saturday night off), the Hard Rock still wants to party.
Boldly going where no cell signal has gone before, I choose the elevator over the congested stairs, and travel down, down into the deep, opulent cell, complete with padded walls. The designers sure had the right idea: vantage points, private coves and pure people-watching perfection. Not a stitch remains of the former tenant, Baby's, where a tight hallway slowly led not-enough patrons from a dark hip-hop lounge to a neon basement, including metal bleachers. It was in this odd space I first sat in a Vegas VIP booth—and not-so-memorably, where I first experienced having something slipped into my drink. For the renovation and rejuvenation, Baby's was literally gutted, starting over fresh with a new take on the old, hollow, square-doughnut theme, adding two new bars; a dramatic, multi-lane staircase; brass-studded, quilted, black-leather walls; and all tricked out with chandeliers like an Oscar winner's earrings.
Downstairs, a set of doors lurks in the corner, guarded without exception by an angry giant. Beyond those doors is a long, rectangular, low-ceilinged room with three ultra-private VIP booths and a private bar. Seclusion may be the right of the wealthy and the powerful, but in a place like this, the action is back outside, so the crowd inside the cave is thin. Upstairs in the booths are every manner of VIP, from older to younger, local to not-so-much, and well-off to pooling-funds-for-the-bill. Even Patrick Ewing has popped by for a quick bottle of Cristal. Now that Las Vegas casinos are throwing their lot in with the real-estate pool, it's only a matter of time before the Hard Rock, now in the condo biz, can be your very own living room. And as any bartender/realtor will tell you, "It's all about location." Body English has the happy job of being official afterparty location for all concerts across the hall at the Joint, Beacher's Madhouse comedy show, and the Hard Rock's infamous Rehab Sunday pool party.
Body English ties with Pure for being the hottest Saturday ticket in the business of wrangling herds of visitors to the port of entry: the cashier. Both clubs nightly beat crowds away with clipboards and door hosts test the venues' seams with staggering body counts. Both also offer the hottest, most consistent and well-attended industry and locals nights: Pure Tuesdays and Muck Fundays (a.k.a. Red Carpet Sundays) at Body English, the latter courtesy of Jack LaFleur and his team from Human Events.
Tonight, gazing out from the prow of the central staircase, hundreds of beautiful girls whip their hair around. Intrepid men have spaced themselves amidst the feminine contingency. All arms reach up, groping for music in the sky, the dancers occasionally glancing in the DJ's direction. All night, he's kept the crowds screaming with his endless stream of rock-rap-old-school mash-ups, throwing in everything but the bar sink. Kiss meets Michael Jackson meets Jay-Z meets Bon Jovi. He waits for the right moment before— whooooooooosh!—he releases the fury of a cold, sweet fog onto the crowd's hot skin. They are in heaven, heads and torsos popping out of the cloud.
I leave the dancing to the experts, which I now see also includes the staff: on the bar, a team of tall, slender blondes have mounted up. They appear ready to break into a can-can, dressed for the part in tiny, black dresses with tinier red kerchiefs. They wiggle and dip, trying not to crush fingers or glasses, or to slip on a stray lemon. Don't let their beauty fool you; the staff is also speedy and more adept at getting through the throng with a full tray than any drunkish guests. The fog soon dissipates and the crowd gets back down to the task of groping and grinding with someone, anyone, and no one.
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
[email protected].
Xania's Hot Spots for May 26 - June 1
Thursday, May 26
Remixed Thursday Mash-ups, Club Vivid
Friday, May 27
Studio 54 presents Wickedville with DJ Jonathan Peters
Saturday, May 28
The Violent Femmes, Rubber the Club at Seven
DJ Armin Van Buuren, Ice Metaclub
Sunday, May 29
Muck Fundays, Body English
John Huntington's Summer of Love, Rain Nightclub
DJ's Deep Dish and Tiesto, Ice Metaclub
Grand opening of Nirvana at the Green Valley Ranch pool
For more Hot Spots and weekly parties visit
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