A review of the Spin Ultra Lounge before College Wednesdays kicks off.
Spin Ultra Lounge is a chic, sleek, beautiful nightclub -- a shining jewel worthy of South Beach, Beach Place, or really any happening downtown scene where only the sexiest young things are even allowed inside the club. Unfortunately, it's located in Boca Raton.
In Mizner Park, you'll find the majority of chichi restaurants at the center just behind the little house the valets call home. And at 7 p.m., even on a Wednesday, even during a recession, every single one of them is overflowing with humanity. Cars are in line for the valet. Senior citizens are in line for the elevators. Diners wait for an open table. But the shining gem that is Spin Ultra Lounge is sitting completely empty.
Tonight is College Wednesdays.
We
claimed one of the comfy patio couches for ourselves anyway. Within moments, a sultry young woman with long black hair and
inky black eyeliner, wearing tiny black shorts, high black heels, and a
black blazer, stood before us. She was our waitress, Gia.
Squinting
at the menu, we asked her what she recommended. She parted her blazer
to put her hands on her hips while she thought, revealing a very
bondagey, tightly laced black corset. We ordered her recommendations -- a French martini and a champagne cocktail. Gia told us it gets busier later.
"Has anyone ever told you," my friend asked Gia, "that you look just like Gia, that model from the '90s?" It was uncanny. Gia looked like Gia.
Gia swung back to look at us, "Yeah." And then swung away.
By
the time our drinks arrived, a few other customers had moseyed in. We
ordered a lobster flatbread, which turned out to be amazing and heaped
with giant chunks of lobster meat.
As we digested and sipped, I came
to realize three things: First, Gia definitely thought my friend and I
were lesbians. Second, all of the servers were Gia clones from the tops
of their silky dark heads to the bottoms of their velvety black
stilettos. Three, every other patron in the still mostly empty
establishment was a middle-aged man who could have walked off the front
of a Just for Men box. Every. Single. One.
Unfortunately, College Wednesdays starts after 9:30 p.m. We'll have to go back.
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