I'm not cool. I'm not hip. And I can't dance. Three reasons why I don't go clubbing. And now, reason four: a club in Vancouver called Ginger 62.
Okay, this one's pretty cool actually. See Nick, why are you so afraid? I tell myself
Well, it's a little... Daring? Garish? Satanic? But I think that's kind of how clubs are designed these days.
Like gazelle, the bar stools huddled together, hoping to keep enough distance between them and their predator, lurking just out of frame.
Voyeur... Exhibitionist... Um... which of these is the mens room? Or is this THAT kind of club?
I declare a thumb war
The bathroom is about to launch into a Ramones song
It's like the dating game for absurdly tall religious statuary.
Images lovingly stolen from Desire to Inspire