Nikita
Jason and Jeanne insisted over and over again that I should check out Nikita at 1015. I checked my source and noticed DJ Dan billed. I decided to check it out.
I had expected to be at the club around 9:30, so I could slip in free, but that wasn’t in the cards. I overslept my nap alarm and ended up at 1015 at 15 until 11 (after driving around for 30 minutes looking for a parking spot).
I spent a good deal of the night in the house room, but I watched DJ Dan tear shit up on the decks for an hour and a half. No wonder the guy is one of the world’s top DJs. He really left no room to doubt his authority.
There were way too many beautiful people in the place, many of whom decided I was funny and cute, or something. Especially this girl (Sophie, or something) from Sweden or Denmark, or somewhere (I’m not forgetful — she was elusive). Between her and this other crazy dancer girl (who was as sweaty as me), I had to be supremely vigilant against allowing myself to slip into temptation.
Nikita was very cool, but it got crowded very quickly. I stayed, however, until 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning. By about 3:00, the dancefloors were thinning out enough that I wasn’t pinned against a wall of dorks standing around gaping at women they could never dream of being with. I don’t think I could stand all the candyravers every weekend, but Nikita certainly has the talent behind the 1200s to understand its renown. It’s something I’ll check out again, every once in a while.