Good Night Mr. Lewis: Going Under

And then it got cold. Chilling financial news is one thing, but couple that with cool weather, and the people just don’t go out. The last week wasn’t good at all around town. An opening here and there, an OK party -- but aside from that, the reality of the economic downturn is starting to sink in. One bottle buyer I know was spending around $50,000 a month in support of the waitress/owner college fund, but he's recently cut his tabs to around $4,000 a month. No one is going to step in to fill those shoes. Clubs continue to slash payrolls in anticipation of the rain on their parade. I did a stop and chat with a model/bottle promoter hanging with a girl whose face is on billboards and in magazine spreads everywhere; she’s a "campaign girl" (supermodel is so passé). He was looking to add a night and finding it hard to do so.

Guys like him have been making serious loot, bringing a dozen hotties a night to clubs around town, and picking up anywhere from $500 to $2,000 for doing so. The clubs place these beautiful people in range of young studs with disposable income ready to spend beaucoup bucks for that very privilege. Just like the status car, the status condo, or the status watch, the status table has been the lifeblood of nightclubs everywhere. It hasn’t been uncommon for these broker jokers to spend $8,000 to $10,000 a night, or way more, in their constant quest to “prove” that their money clips/dicks are bigger than those at the next table over. As these wonderful humans pull back and deal with the realities of just hanging on to the condo they need for the bait, the model promoter and his chorus line has diminished and will continue to do so.

This particular model/bottle promoter asked me “what to do,” while the campaign gal smiled that precious smile at me. I told him to “think volume, gather names, and use your considerable charms” to broaden his list of invitees. The volume promoter—that rare breed who brings scores of just-above-average Joes and Josephines—will be the newbie getting the good table come December. It will be interesting to see whether my design clients choose to lose some tables in future club projects. Will the dance floor (that awful table-deficient club area that has all but disappeared) enjoy a big comeback? The mindless gyrations of dance, always at least the third-best way to forget your troubles, may be on the return. Short of a $700 billion bailout of the club system (which I’m proposing!), the way of doing business in nightclubs is going to change a lot. A tightening of belts around town will be the order of the night—except for that campaign girl and her cohorts. Somebody buy her a cheeseburger, please.