The night before New Year's Eve, a friend and I made our way to Josephine via a Groupon deal. After navigating our way through a mousetrap of velvet ropes, we did the $5 coat check thing and surveyed the dim lighting provided by Tron-inspired glowing columns of simulated velvet damask. There were also roped off damask-inspired couches for posh people who actually think it's cool to pay to sit down. And, no trendy watering hole is complete without two male attendants in the bathroom expecting you to tip them for handing you a paper towel. Our rather pedestrian evening quickly deteriorated into an NC-17 alcohol-fueled college grind fest of shiny nylon dresses, disturbing flashes of co-ed granny panties, and early twenty-something desperation. The over twenty-five crowd clustered together in various spots, vehemently denying that they were anything like these little hedonists when they were in college. Minus a stripper pole and a pocket full of ones to complete the entertainment for that evening, it was time for us to go.
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