Tryst

I was recently at a Client Summit Meeting in Las Vegas. Like any Vegas business trip, this was one of those “edutainment” kind of trips. Work by day, play by night, hope that someone responsible has the agenda for day 2.

The hosts for the Client Summit Meeting graciously planned the evenings entertainment for me and 500 of my-never-seen-before and never-to-see-again client colleagues. While I was secretly hoping for a show (if the truth be told, I was gunning for Celine and would have even settled for watching David Hasselhoff in the Producers), our hosts instead reserved some private tables for our very special entourage at one of Vegas’ hippest nightclubs, Tryst. Of course, as a 30 something year old mother of three, this is the first time I had ever heard of Tryst (the club, that is.)

Another truth. I hadn’t been to a hip club for a really, really long time. Let’s call it Post LL Cool J but Pre Beyonce. There’s been a lot of binkies, Baby Beluga, and dancing in front of my own mirror in those middle years.

So here are some observations and tips to all my 30ish friends with children who may one day find themselves unexpectedly at Tryst (the club, that is.)

You’ll feel overdressed. While versatile, business casual just doesn’t cross over well to club attire. Even the hippest outfit in your closet would probably still not be Tryst-worthy. Guaranteed that it would have more fabric – a lot more. So go with what makes you feel good, but please for the love of Katie Couric, no sweater sets under any circumstance. And do use this opportunity to wear your thong. At least you won’t have a panty line. Plus, someone ought to represent for the underwear-wearing female population.

You’ll feel underendowed. The silicon per capita at Tryst is very high. The general perkiness per capita also high. This is where you remind yourself that breastfeeding is a love gift you give to your child. This is also where you renew your commitment that this will be the year to buy bras with better support.

Leave the purse in your hotel room. As much as you think you might, you will not need the hand sanitizer, the first aid kit, the photo album of your children, the just-in-case baggie of Goldfish or any other small appliance that you are able to squeeze into that oversized bag you call a purse.

Pushing is allowed. Forget what you told your kids about not pushing people when they are in line. Pushing is not only allowed, but it’s required if you want to get anywhere. This becomes particularly tricky when you have to push someone who is in the middle of striking their pose.

Speaking of poses, I realized that you don’t actually have to be a good dancer to make your way onto one of the many elevated stages. It looked to me that you were stage-worthy as long as you could either a) hold a 15 second pose without falling over or b) dance really close to another woman.

Don’t think about how much your drink costs or how many Thomas the Trains you could be funding instead. It’s not the place to be budget conscience or be thinking about Thomas and his friends. Except for maybe Gordon. He is the Biggest Engine after all.

There are a lot of men between the ages of 20 and 35 who are doing their best to look like Justin Timberlake. The ones between the ages of 35 and 45 were Client Summit meeting attendees by day and men-trying-not-to-look-like-Client-Summit-meeting-attendees by night. The ones over 50 all looked to be relatives of Tony Soprano.

"Celebration" by Kool N the Gang will not be played. The Gang only plays at weddings, not at the club. Ditto that for "Bust a Move" by Young MC.

Women still go to bathroom in packs. Some things never change. But ah-ha! – now I understand why women no longer need their purses. Club bathrooms are stocked with many of the personal hygiene items you may find yourself in want of during a long, sweaty evening – deodorant, hair spray, mouthwash – most everything but the baggies of Goldfish. On this count, may I suggest from my mothering experience that everyone is happier – albeit sometimes only temporarily – with a steady stream of empty-calorie snacks.

Don’t expect to have an intelligent conversation with a male colleague. I suppose there’s only so much thinking that a man can do with Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” playing in the background. My favorite line of the evening was, “Yes, I understand. Yes, I see what you are saying. Hmm…I’ll have to give that a good think … later.” I laughed so hard I almost peed my thong.

Don’t think about your own kids one day at Tryst. The more you think about it, the more the panicked look on your face will give you away. And as hard as you may try to wish it, Tryst and all clubs like it will not magically disappear with a little fairy dust by 2020. Believe me, I tried.