NYM drops a classic today, an epic essay on the state of West 27th Street clubland, which as we know, is in a serious state of decay. But now, it seems, conditions are so vile that those who escape the block alive and not raped should consider themselves lucky:
Inside the clubs, people started doing “bottle shots”—drinking straight from the bottle without using any kind of glass or mixer. Clubs quietly hired EMTs—which cost thousands of dollars each night—and the ambulance companies did a steady business. Men would find women passing out on the street, lift them onto their shoulders, and carry them off to a taxi.On Saturday nights, when Spirit hosted its hip-hop party, there were fights, frequent arrests, and men making suggestive comments to the women leaving Bungalow 8. Prostitutes and drug dealers walked down the street, freely propositioning anyone they met. “It started to feel self-destructive,” says one clubber, “a Disneyland for drunks.”The massive affront to Bunglow 8 patrons aside, we may actually be looking at the end of West 27th Street, as the NYM take goes. Click through for more.
· The Short, Drunken Life of Club Row [NYM]
· BREAKING: Nightclub B.E.D. Calls it Quits [~E~]