the playboy club is at the top of the palms hotel, roughly maybe three hundred feet from the famed ghost bar but in the opposite tower.
feels like you could reach out and touch ghost bar but if you tried you’d fall straight to your death.
we got led upstairs by grant.
grant went to highschool with an honorary sae from my alma mater (yeah, i was in a frat; deal) and grant turned out to be a very generous host.
i like people who take a third party reference and treat them like family.
the world should work that way.
so grant took us straight in with a pound and a nice to meetcha and boarded us all into the elevator that could fit fifty and took us to the top.
doors open and there’s rock music playin and mirrors and blackjack tables in the center of the room that remind me of the hard rock except for the $500 limit and the playboy bunny dealing cards.
not that playboy bunnies twilight as card dealers but when you’re dressed like a bunny and you act like a bunny in my humble opinion you’ve labeled yourself a bunny.
grant put us at the front and center table.
our three bottles; one vodka, two crown; were waiting for us and we all slid into black leather lounge chairs and ordered up our mixers. a bunny poured everyone a drink.
what did i like?
the service was amazing, and i’m not talking about the outfits.
the table we sat at had a sexilicious view of the twin palm tower and the windows went to the floor and it felt like you could just step out into nothingness drink in hand and skydive.
top of the world.
i liked the club. it was a little slow in terms of the crowd and general entertainment, but i got the impression it was a lounge and because you could go upstairs to moon, the club, i can’t hold it to a much higher standard than that of a place to relax and be entertained, and it holds up in a major way.
moon was typical. nothing special, not worth the cover (i’m sure), and nothing to write home about.
all in all…well…thank you grant. we all had a blast.