By Noah Hubbell
By Kiernan Maletsky
By Tom Murphy
By Noah Hubbell
By Alex Distefano
By Darryl Smyers
By Jon Solomon
By Britt Chester
Women of the world, unite! There's a magical land where a gal can show as much T&A as she wants without having to worry about inappropriate ass-grabbing or creepy old-guy leers from across the bar. Yes, this land truly exists, and after spending a night there, even the hottest of girls goes home alone. Club Scout is talking about the gay circuit, of course, which she romped through last Wednesday, all the while enjoying the joys of being absolutely ignored. (Sorry, femmes, just men-on-men action this time.)
First stop was Club Evolution, 821 22nd Street, home of the cheapest mid-week drink specials imaginable: 25-cent tequila shots and draft Miller Lite from 10 p.m. to midnight. Even factoring in the $3 cover, this is a heckuva deal, and it's a wonder that anyone manages to keep his/her pants on here -- excepting the hired strippers, that is, who drawer-dropped all over the mini-stages scattered throughout the bottom floor of the club. The pretty-boy clientele showered dollar bills over the muscle men, who sported too-tight Speedos under those drawers, and tube socks below everything else. But the best exotic-dancer outfit belonged to Flamboyant Batman, who bat-signaled loud and clear through his form-fitting costume. While the crowd was fairly sparse and sedate to start, it picked right up around a bump-and-grind mix of Pink's "Get the Party Started."
Before the party could finish, Club Scout was off to Boyztown, located at 117 Broadway and remembered fondly as the old home of the Brig. This address is steeped in infamous dirty stories, but the Boyztown boys have worked hard to clean up the spot's image. Wednesday is amateur stripper night, and the sleaze factor is strictly controlled -- as evidenced by the owner who reprimanded a patron for taking photos and by the laminated sign in the bathroom discouraging any kind of misconduct or illicit drug use. But who needs that kind of stimulation when a guy dressed as a future cop sexily undresses while the Deftones' "Back to School" rocks in the background?
Just across the alley from Boyztown, at 145 Broadway, is another infamous gay-club staple, The Compound. On this particular Wednesday -- listed on a chalkboard as "Cheap Date Night" -- the corner bar was pretty mellow but plenty enjoyable, with $5 pitchers and $1.25 mugs adding to the ambience of low lights and dance mixes from the Darkness and Journey.
The crowning moment of the evening: Club Scout earned the top music-trivia score on the Compound's Touch Maxx game. Two million points, bitches. Now who wants to take me home?