Friday, April 11, 5 p.m.
A quick left off Flamingo and onto Cambridge (an afterthought of a street) and I pull up to the much-ballyhooed Puff Hookah Lounge. Rumor has it that an estimated $1.5 million of the $2 million investment into Puff went toward marketing. For months I’ve been hearing about it, driving by billboards and accepting fliers from girls in skin-tight Puff tees telling me to look for the purple building—and boy is it ever purple!
I park a ways down and endure sneers from rent-a-cops as they guard neighboring parking lots from us undesirable club folks. If that’s how the neighborhood treats an incoming nightlife venue, it’s no wonder everyone keeps telling me, “This place is cursed.” In the last five or so years, 1030 East Flamingo Road has been home to the Boston, some restaurant no one can remember, the Hookah Palace, the ill-famed Elements Nightclub (underage hip-hop parties—no bueno) and now Puff. But no one at Puff cares. They are collectively the happiest, most optimistic staff I’ve encountered in a long time; I hope for all of their sakes that Puff finds success here, beginning with Puff-a-Palooza, its 36-hour grand-opening extravaganza.
Outside, the festival tent is largely empty (and will remain that way all weekend), but inside, the action takes place in rooms red and blue, each filled with hand-me-down Hookah Palace furniture, traditional VIP booths and even giant Lovesac bean bags. The stage is home to the DJ booth, where music director Alex Terranova presides. “I want this to be a spot where someone can rock what they want to rock,” says Terranova, aka DJ SmashBOX. He anticipates a local crowd and will steer clear of commercial house and rock.
11:48 p.m. The Weekly’s Deanna Rilling reports: “What Puff lacks in snazzy draperies is redeemed through stellar music; I’m thrilled to hear DJ Mezzy Mez mixing in a new Junkie XL track. The welcome reprieve from Top 40, hip-hop, and mash-ups
continues with Surreal FXXX—and Portia’s strategically placed body paint.”
DJ Josh Abrams: “[Puff] reminds me of old-school afterhours … This is where I want to spend my late nights. This place already has a really good vibe.”
Saturday April 12, 2:30 p.m. As I suspected, nighttime proves to be the right time for Puff. The daytime crowd is limited to one guy nursing a Heineken and someone warming up on trumpet during a mic check on stage.
8:30 p.m. Enter Jester and Bullseye, Puff’s “Puffessional Puffologists,” or hookah experts. Über-articulate, these raver-pants-wearing shisha masters guide our small group to a vanilla, strawberry, guava and mango-flavored tobacco experience. “We always test your hookahs first,” says Jester as Bullseye takes a hit. My turn. “I just inhaled a fruit cup,” I strain and then cough.
11:30 p.m. Deanna: “Ecstatic with Puff’s casual dress code, I show up wearing Chucks and prepare to spend the night dancing—Alex Terranova beat me to it. After watching Cirque [du Soleil]-esque pole dancing, the artist Rock painting on stage and an awesome progressive house set from Josh Abrams, my plan to leave early is interrupted once DJ Faarsheed takes control of the ones-and-twos. When I’m not drooling over the Australian bartender, locals keep telling me the same thing: ‘This place has a great vibe.’ Putting my snobbery about the décor aside, I nod in agreement. Another local called Puff ‘the new Ice.’”
DJ Faarsheed: “[Puff is] somewhere locals can go without the pressure of the Strip … I support them 100 percent.”
Sunday, April 13, 4:45 a.m. It’s not hard to imagine that a place dealing in alcohol, tobacco and skimpily dressed women would do well in Vegas. Even as dawn approaches, the periwinkle building pulsates with multicolored lights and vibrates with bass. Though the VIP side rooms are largely empty, the bar still has plenty of customers, the tables still puffing away. Some of the staff has been on hand for 16, 17 and up to 19 hours. Five a.m. comes and goes, but SmashBOX keeps on spinning. Perhaps that best expresses Puff’s mission: not to be everything to just anyone, but willing to be anything to just the right person. As if on cue, Jester cruises by. “You’re still here! You want me to make you a hookah?!”
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at [email protected] and visit thecircuitlv.com to sign up for Xania’s free weekly newsletter.