Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Sin City Chapter One: Blinded By An Arctic Chill

Click here for a pic, and Yes... they're real

Even in the sweltering, desert heat I managed to find a chill spot to hang out.

I heard about this club ICE in Las Vegas (200 East Harmon Boulevard, in case you're wondering) where to my amazement Paul Oakenfold was doing a charity show (check earlier posts if you're wondering who that dude is).

I dragged my girls to a few spots before heading over to ICE. My media connections got us past the tediously long line and overly inflated cover charge. We sauntered in, the fine ladies that we were, to check out what this club was all about. After some dancing in the hip hop room and fending off some overly forward gentlemen (and I'm being generous with that term), my girls decided to crack out of ICE for something a little less heated. Not wanting to be the party pooper, I reluctantly went along.

I was sooo bummed to go b/c Oakenfold hadn't started spinning, so once we got back to our room at the Monte Carlo, I decided to head back out.

It was a big step for me.

Big cities I can handle. Big cities, alone, and after 2 am... that's when I feel like things can get a little sketchy for a girl with her double Ds hanging out.

I decided to sack up anyway, and returned to the cool scene @ ICE. Right before I left I got a call on my cell from some guy whom I happened to give my number to while walking on The Strip. Dave called me back late and asked what I was up to, and I told him 5'8" and that was about it. I mentioned I was going to a club and he said he'd meet me there.

I got to ICE first and headed to the techno room... where there were a bunch of people dancing to this thumping, electronic, energetic music... pulsating through every pore of your body. Some folks were obviously enjoying the event with assistance from various illegal chemicals, in fact one guy asked me if I was interested in doing X. It was an ironic experience for me, the girl who doesn't even drink anymore. I was having a perfectly good time with my Red Bull and Cranberry.

I think I am now what they call "straight edge." It's sometimes tossed out as an insult, other times it's a label of wonderment given by folks who are amazed some of us can survive without mind altering chemical influences.


Anyway. I don't mean to boast, but I'm a master on the dance floor (which admittedly is pretty easy for anyone when the music is Techno) . I just kind of bounced and bopped to my own little beat... scooting away from weirdo guys who looked like they belonged on that old SNL skit Sprockets (you know, Mike Myers, all black clothes, some weird little glasses and a horribly awful German accent).

Then all of a sudden it happened.
The little gimmick ICE is known for.

Every hour they drop a bunch of dry ice and the dance floor becomes completely engulfed in 40 degree temperatures and a frozen, white cloud. Dancers can't see beyond their own hand, much less what's beyond. You can't see who's dancing around you, and those folks can't see you wiggling around them, either.

It was the strangest sensation, to be completely embraced in this frozen cloud that would glow all white when the black lights were on... then turn to pitch black when the lights went off. The flashing back and forth is enough to send someone into an epileptic seizure...

It was very cool to be anonymous for those few minutes, with no one staring at my moves... it was just me, Paul Oakenfold's tunes, the dry ice and the dance floor. The moment was surreal enough for me without the assistance of any mind altering drugs; I can't imagine what it was like for the pill poppers.

On the other side of things, it was kind of freaky because it's a scenario where it would be very easy for a girl to get sexually assaulted. In between my dance moves, my mind wildly raced through thoughts of me discovering I was completely nude once the cloud cleared... my clothing having been ripped off by nearby dancers in the thick of the icy smoke.

In reality, my ass was grabbed a few times, but other than that the folks were pretty kind... keeping their hands and bodily fluids to themselves.

Dave managed to meet up with me at ICE. I'll break down those details ahead in
Sin City Chapter Two: The Desperate Men of Sin City.

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