B: Once again, we headed out to see what Denver had to offer spies like us. Our identities were dutifully concealed behind complex disguises, and of course, action was bound to follow. I believe we started somewhere around the Purple Martini, which is now a hotel bar for that fabulous Westin with its fluffy beds so much like my own. Except for its complicated entry, calculating miami-in-denver interior and terribly annoying canned club-esque music, the place suited us just fine. We ordered the special, and Henry took pictures for posterity.
But the night had just begun. Leaving the bar, we boarded the 0 down Broadway, taking on a willing collaborator along the way who saw past our masks, and to keep him quiet, we invited him to be our surprise guest and willing collaborator to the night's events. The three of us eventually exited at the Blue Ice. This Blue Ice had some enticing happy hour offerings, and we took full advantage, while M chatted up the adorable folks at the bar with their spiky mohawks and standoffish demeanors. Her confidential report described them as follows: "Don't look at me! Look at me [spiking hair]!" Lo and behold, as the presence of our new compatriots might have indicated, soon the dark chords of goth/industrial music were chiming, and skinny kids in tall black boots appeared out of nowhere (maybe that was the liquor in me not noticing), stomp-kicking their way around the dancefloor, hands in their pockets, bent over from the waists. About then, a devastating beauty of the city joined us for a little birthday hoorah. And we all took to the dance floor, clomping and spinning with Denver's sweet little goths.
Soon it was time to move on to new horizons. The birthday girl had arrangements to meet her associates at Vinyl, another local dance hall. Unfortunately, Vinyl did not have the spunk or sinister satisfaction that Blue Ice had to offer, and we found ourselves sitting with pouty faces in a cold, dirty room, as the rotating dj's competed to find out who could spin the most disjointed, undanceable sets. They both won. Alas, there were also scantily clad women about, peddling jaeger or some other nasty syrup posing as liquor. We tried to talk some sense into them, to give them the key to escape, but they would not listen. M made sure that some of their blow-up toys were no longer standing as we breezed out of the joint. Dance club: HA.
Results:
Blue Ice 8.5
Vinyl 0
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