editor's note

Hello
I have ventured into the belly of the beast and i've kept stride! Well almost. This weeks update features a visit to Empire Ballroom, which is a pretty big club out here. I usually do at least 3 reviews, however Friday night was completely lame. A bar that i reviewed a while back was having a 1 year anniversay so i went back to cover it. Needless to say i wasn't impressed. I was more impressed with my grilled chee sandwich i ate afterward. I did however meet some interesting people, one of which is a photographer. Of course if we team up you will see better pic's on both sites. So today there is only 1 review so enjoy it...i did! Thanks again for reading feel free to leave comments.
p.s. my sister suffered no permanent damage

I didn’t know Armani made Zoot suits!

Late Night Empire Ballroom
3765 S. Las Vegas Blvd.
Las Vegas, NV 89109
(702) 492-3960

I’m going to hell. I know that now. My sister was right. My youthful ambition to become a professional wrestler in the late 80’s and the subsequent victimizing of my beloved Sista; paved my road to hell. Yes tonight Saturday would prove my undoing. I could never again claim ignorance. This time I had to admit my wrongs and take my lumps like a man.


After my Cinco de Mayo celebration the night before, which included a dive bar offering 1.00 Coronas and 3.50 Patron shots, I decided that Saturday night would be grand and equally as cheap.
The arrangements were made; Ray Davila from Empire Ballroom emailed me the confirmation. I was on the almighty list. This meant I really didn’t need to bring too much cash, however on nights like this you always have to be ready with a little backup just in case things go horribly wrong.
The night as it always does began innocently enough. I was at home eating a little dinner and watching Justice League Unlimited. It was 10:30 pm. I had a couple of belts of Captain and Coke and off I went to the Champagne Lounge/café for my bull pen session before the big game. You’ve all read the review to Champagne so now you have a frame of reference. I arrived at the lounge right around 12:00. The place was dead. A few ladies here and there, the Karaoke was dreadful and devoid of any soul. Some desert mutant high on Whiskey began talking to me about something stupid and irrelevant. I asked him to give me an inside on Vegas. “Hey bud so can you give me the low down on Vegas, anything weird to report?” He simply shrugged and bought me a shot. What I didn’t notice right away was an attractive young lady who sat herself next me. “Hey tell you what” she whispered in my ear, “buy me a drink and I’ll give you a real story, one that you won’t find anywhere else.”

All Aboard!
Empire Ballroom is an L.A. venture brought to Vegas formerly known as“Utopia.” Like many ventures based on word of mouth Utopia fell through and Empire Ballroom was born. The nice thing about this place is you don’t have to go through a casino to get here. This place is Vegas High society a familiar theme. The place is big in a deceptive way. Once you enter the club you walk around a dimly lit hallway that weaves (or was that me weaving?) until you reach the main dance floor. The place has 2 levels, one of which leads to an outside patio where you have a pretty good view of the Vegas strip. There are mini bars everywhere the VIP sections are right alongside the upstairs corridor and are or course sectioned off. However it’s not as elitist as some other places. This place is dark and moody like most, yet the atmosphere was not as mellow as TAO. Here you will find sunglasses and high levels of douchebaggery. The bathrooms here are plentiful and I didn’t have to wait long. Empire is big enough that you have to explore a little bit. If you’re bashful don’t bother. I found a sign that clearly stated: “Exit” but once I went through I found a lounge area that was playing good music, and not all that populated. The main dance floor had beautiful dancers gyrating and earning their pay. The boys were going nuts salivating and otherwise trying to shake off their own insecurities.


A good night to lose oneself, the Empire is dark and no one is paying attention you can get away with a lot. This is a fact. A fact that I would later prove.
The gentleman is a tramp
After an hour my new friend Casey began to reluctantly talk about her story, and she was right. I have heard of the influence of several nefarious institutions that have made Vegas home since the 40’s, but to talk to someone who actually witnessed certain “things” is altogether new. We finished our drinks left the Champagne café and went back to her place.
We spent the next few hours talking about the nature of her former exotic profession, of which I would be lucky enough to experience first hand….in just a few short hours. We also spoke of her fears of retribution at the hands of those who owned the establishment she used to work at if her plans to write a memoir came to pass. I encouraged her to at the very least plot and put down some notes to paper. This way she has something tangible to work with at her own pace. There is more to follow on this particular, but out of respect for Casey and her future efforts I’ll leave it out of this review. Besides I don’t want my car to blow up with me in it…..I just had it detailed!


After some nice conversation I invited Casey to Empire to “help” me with the review. She agreed and we blew onto the Vegas strip with no fear of the mob, guest lists, Metro Cops or our own weaknesses. Tonight would be adventurous and full of violent fun; the d-bags on the strip wouldn’t know what hit em!

The Empire Strikes Back
The lines outside the club were of course full and seemed to spiral out of control there were people everywhere…it was 330am. Arm in arm Casey and I got in the club in less than 4 mins…..I love my job!

We partied like professionals it helped that we were 3 sheets to the wind by the time we got inside. I’ll admit that while I tried to review the club I couldn’t help just wanting to relax and enjoy my present company. After 30 mins of trying to write in the dark I stashed the pad and just had fun. Together we found the secret room where the music was nice and mellow but very danceable and very sexy. This is where my friend was able to showcase her talents…and I for one thanked everyone who made this moment possible….Mom and Dad thanks for giving birth to me. I thanked all the women I’ve ever known for the necessary combat experience that brought me here and helped me with this current situation. I’ll never mock a dancer ever again. They are a necessary part of our culture and that was never truer for me than on that private dance floor. Many things go through your mind in situations like this. Enough! I needed to concentrate; here is a great dancer who might just school me unless I concentrate. The movements were subtle at first. I will say this at no point in the beginning of our dance could I claim complete control. As the music droned on, I started to get a feel for the flow. Hips finally moving in perfect harmony. There was no one in the room and this only heightened the whole experience. Nothing on this planet gets better than finding yourself in the midst of the sweet science of seduction. The DJ to his credit kept the music coming and played the right mix. The girl was in her element I was the prey. All of my Latin powers were at the max.
Highlights
The staff at Empire very friendly case in point, I ran out of cash (no 2.00 rum and cokes here friends) and the bartender realizing my mission gave me the drinks. Very cool. The music thankfully was decent or appropriate for the atmosphere. Of course the company I was with also made the night especially nice. To be honest I don’t remember what time we left.


I do know that the sun was up. With so many people still outside waiting to get in I couldn’t tell who was who. So I approached a man and handed him my valet ticket. “Whoa man do I look like a fucking valet to you? I’m wearing an Armani suit. Do Valets wear fucking Armani?” My reply had to be perfectly timed, his suit was one of those dreadfully cheap knockoffs with far too many buttons: “Actually douche bag I didn’t know Armani made Zoot suits.” My friend and I laughed all the way to my car!