After previewing it throughout the week, we swung by the Thursday-night opening of this Midtown nightclub, or, as we like to call it, "that club that claims they are the new Studio 54." Arriving at 8 p.m. right in time for the "V.I.P. press reception" (aka free drinks), we got a chance to observe the space, mingle with those involved and chill out on the club's narrow 1980s-esque wraparound balcony, where we remained for the duration of the evening, having a damn good time.
We were aware that the club officially opened to the public at 10 p.m., and we were curious to see if the patrons resembled the "high-end, celebrity, trendsetting crowd" as much as Touch's director of operations, Sauce (yeah, one name only), claimed they would.
As expected, it did get crowded quickly, though our balcony remained fairly comfortable. At around 11 p.m., this writer excused herself to use the loo—a minimal effort that took perhaps all of four minutes. Upon returning, a long line had formed at the balcony, clearly now being used as a V.I.P. area. This was fine with us, because we wanted to go have a proper look around the club and gather material for our review since it was packed with the public.
Well.
Faced with an extremely—obscenely—nasty bouncer, we were refused admittance back to the seats where we had been for the past three hours— the seats where our bags and drinks were. After about 10 full minutes of trying to explain who we were and that we had already been sitting, we gave up. This none-too-sharp bouncer clearly was given direct instructions to be "tough" (like Studio 54, no doubt) although we assumed the proprietors of a club that hosted press earlier might have clued them in. After about eight snarls of "I don't care who you are!" we attempted to squeeze past him to grab our belongings, when he decided it would be a good idea to physically block us.
It was a complete fiasco. And the irony of it was that we had zero designs on chilling in what fast became the V.I.P. section. We just wanted to grab our stuff so we could head to the main floor.
Needless to say, we left (after a guest grabbed our belongings for us), not to return. And we hate to be the one to break the news, but a "celebrity, trendsetting crowd" it ain't.
Oh, and just as an added bonus: The coat check lost one of our hats. A nice fur one.
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