People think that large groups of girls can get anywhere (pertaining to bars and clubs), and yea, that’s basically true. Except for last Friday, when I encountered my first failure. Following our winter qtr ritual and going out to Westwood with the usual peeps, we went sake bombing, and then to oh-so-classy Maloney’s. When we got there someone was having a private party, which made Maloneys really crowded. It's random because Maloney’s isn’t the nicest place for a birthday or… anything worth celebrating. Anyway, the private party was downstairs, which is, most importantly, where the dance floor is, and so began our attempts to use our charms (or lack thereof) to make the night happen. We kept talking to one bouncer throughout the night, but since I wasn’t completely coherent, this is the little of what I remember from our (unsuccessful but entertaining) attempts to sway him:
(Trying to get downstairs, and seeing people get rejected and leave)
Me: We can’t come downstairs?
Bouncer: It’s a private party. Sorry guys, I can’t let you in.
Me: What? But we’re on the list! (We’re not on the list)
Bouncer: What’s your name?
Me: Stephanie!
Bouncer: No. You’re not on the list.
Me: This is crazy! We’ve been coming here forever! We come here every week! We’re regulars! (We’re not regulars)
Bouncer: Really? What’s my name?
Me: …..Mike!
Bouncer: No.
Random guy who tries to help us: His name is Greg. I know him really well. I took him to dinner once. It’s my friend’s party, and they’re not letting anyone in.
Me: Greg! Greg, see? I knew that!
Greg: Sorry guys, I can’t let you in. You guys should go upstairs, it’s the same thing.
Me: No it’s not! Greg, come on, it’s completely different!
Greg: How is it different?
Me: It's so much better downstairs! The alcohol is better downstairs! It tastes nasty upstairs!
~Greg looks skeptical
There was probably more but the point is, he didn’t let us in. So my friends and I went to Brew Co instead, the other bar in Westwood. Brew co was lame and after 30 minutes, some ppl wanted to go back to Maloneys, and there was suddenly a HUMONGO line outside. And Greg was now outside carding people. Everybody else was ok with waiting in line, but my friend Janelle and I went up to Greg in the front.
Me: Greg! Can you let us in?
Greg: What! You guys left? Why would you guys leave?
Me: Because you wouldn’t let us go downstairs!
Greg: Yeah, so stay upstairs!
Me: No, it wasn’t fun upstairs, so we left. We just want to come back in, we were already inside.
Greg: You guys shouldn’t have left.
Me: Look! Look at this stamp (shows him a star stamp on my hand). See, we were in here before. We’re just coming back! We were only gone for like 5 minutes!
Greg: What? That’s the stamp from Brew Co. You guys went to Brew co? Why would you show me that? You guys are traitors! Now I really can’t let you guys in!
Me: Greg! I can’t believe you’re not letting us in! Greg! Remember when you and your girlfriend came over for dinner? We had sushi and friend chicken. It was so good! Greg! We hang out all the time! Come on, Greg!
Greg: (shakes head) Traitors. You guys went to Brew co. Go get in line.
So, we had no choice but to KNOCK HIM DOWN, DODGE AROUND HIM AND RUN INSIDE!!! Ahaha no. We went to the end of the line. When we finally got to the front, my friend and I talked to him again, but I can’t remember the rest except that it was a lot of, “Greg!” and “I can’t believe you didn’t let us in! Thanks Greg! Come on, Greg!” So at least now we know his name. It was fun to talk to/yell at Greg. I bet he wishes we never found out what his name was, because we totally abused it all night. Greg! Greg! Aha. And I did manage to get my way into the downstairs party with another bouncer. The private party was lame and wasn’t worth it. Who throws private parties at Maloney’s?!? Anyway, surprisingly, the first time being a girl didn’t work wasn’t even at a high-profile club, it was at a sleazy college bar. Lesson learned from the trials and errors of talking your way into bars: Greg’s a toughie.
