Sometime after midnight in a queue for a popular dance club, a girl is trying to pull her tight-fitting black and white dress down her protruded bottom. The bouncer slyly checks her out before giving her the heads up to signal she’s good to go below.
The doors open to a reddish room and as one walks further down the staircase one is consumed by red. The air smells of it, the heat reflects it and the people glow of it.
En route to the dance floor pretty girls are flirting with good-looking guys with tight pants and highlighted hair. The available guys and girls are on the dance floor. In front of the crowd chanting lyrics from a Killers song, dances what could be assumed to be a bachelorette, with a dildo in her mouth. She seems quite at home dancing around a stripper pole whilst her friends encourage her to lift up her skirt and pose for photos. On the opposite side of the room, girls with big wigs and high heels are dancing on an equally elevated platform.
All around pretty girls are hanging out like pieces of meat at the butchery. Some men prowl around and others wait at the bar to buy expensive drinks and watch themselves in the surrounding mirrors. Cheesy lyrics, pickup lines and seductive glances make their way around the room. Likewise, grim-faced cleaners clear away bottles that party between high heels and spit on the sweat covered dance floor.
Fast forward a couple of hours later until the bachelorette looks as if she’s wilting. Singletons couple up and leave together and the bouncer throws out the remaining trash. Some talk about how great the night was and some about how trashed they are. The empty club looks like a battlefield. It’s not clear what the battle was for, or who won, but what is known is that it will be the same tomorrow, the day after that and especially next weekend.