The Hotel is a nightclub in Salt Lake. My friend, Jean-Louis, told me about it after Sarah, Rachel, Catherine and I discovered that the club we had chosen off the internet was having an after-party for the derby and they (the derby people) provided their own crap d.j. Yes, derby, as in roller-derby. Who knew? I don’t know why I didn’t ask Jean-Louis when he had called me earlier that evening, but I didn’t. Whatever. Seriously, the sight of all of those derby girls in their outfits almost made the $5 cover charge worth it.

I had no idea such a club existed in Salt Lake. It was fantastic. It reminded of my days in Europe when my host sister and I hit the discotechs every weekend (at the ripe age of 15). I don’t know what my parents were thinking letting me head to Europe on my own at that age, but that’s a story for another day. Back to my point. Had I known such a club existed in Salt Lake I would not have waited a whole year to go.

I have not had that much crazy, let my hair down, “party likes it’s 1999” (which, incidentally, was a song that playing at the crap club) fun in a long time. The music was fabulous (great hip-hop remixes with a little bit of a techno vibe), the room was huge, the lighting was incredible and the crowd was so diverse, something I have missed since moving back to Happy Valley. And when Jean-Louis ended up meeting us there, it got even better. Apparently, when four women are dancing together, without any men in the circle, other men in the room feel it’s okay to bug them. And by bug, I mean touch, grope, leer, etc.

I cannot believe that I have waited so long to do that. I can tell this is going to become a relatively regular activity this summer, especially because Rachel leaves for Argentina in August and needs to get her fill , now that she knows what she’s been missing. And let me tell you, that girl can move! Seriously!