Last night we attempted to go "clubbing" at Johnny V's in PB: and then we got kicked out of good old Johnny V's in PB

No seriously, we did. Apparently us oldies are toooooo wild and crazy for that which is Johnny V's.

I hold no grudges, in fact it was just a great way to start the night (since the night ended up being tons o' fun) but I learned a few lessons that I didn't know (since I spent most of my party days NOT in PB).

Lesson 1: Johnny V's isn't as popular as it thinks it is.

Take the line outside. That line that you wait in because, you know, line means popular and popular means crowded and crowded means sweaty guys trying to dance with you when you have clearly moved away from them more than once (woo hoo!). But the line outside Johnny V's is strictly for show considering the floor is empty, the tables are every where and the bathrooms have no wait at all. In fact while we were waiting in line (and Vee's friend Bee kept talking about how she had to pee, pee, pee) a group of people walked past and said "oh look a line outside Johnny V's, that really makes me want to go there!" Then they kept on walking...

Lesson 2: Johnny V's does not appreciate you having drinks ahead of time at your house.

Economic mo fos. Sure they charge you $8-$10 a drink there, but you have to show up nice and not toasted so that you can toast your way to a good time there. They are trying to lend some sophistication to PB after all, no drunk college students for them. This illustrated by the fact that Bee (and granted Bee was a little super toasted, she was well done as a matter of fact) was refused service by Johnny V's Bartenders, considering that they thought she needed a glass of water and no more to drink. "If I see your friend take one drink you all are out of here."

Lesson 3: Johnny V's isn't kidding when they say that if they see your friend take one more drink you are going to get kicked out.

Yep, not kidding.

Lesson 4: Johnny V's is a big place, with people standing around looking cute, short lines at the bathrooms and really big security guards who have to escort you out once you are asked to leave.

Granted we were on our way out the door in the first place. After the bus boy told us he could totally get fired for Bee taking a sip of Vee's drink, Vee apologized and we were heading out when huge security guard guy came swooshing over with his huge walkie talkie (why so big? you know they have ear pieces for that now don't you?! See... Old Navy) and told us it was time for us ladies to go. Out we were... what a great attempt at reclaiming my youthful days huh?

I would have liked to provide a bit of a review of the place but the truth is we were in there for approximately 15 minutes before we were escorted out by big red shirted security guy for "breaking the rules." So really all I can review is the bathroom (fairly straight forward, little lady inside to help, no gum. Don't those places with attendants always have gum?) and the bar (and what do I have to say about that besides... boundary setters?). The music seemed alright but nobody was dancing, just kind of milling around, waiting to get toasty so they could bust a move. Oh, and the sidewalk is nice I guess... the line? Anyway, if you play sneak a drink they will kick you out... FYI.

This is only the second time I've ever been kicked out of a club/bar. The first time involving and ex boyfriend who was "unresponsive" when the bouncer asked him his name, passed out in a booth and was then told he had to "get out." Whereby he pointed at me, having lots of fun on the dance floor and said "I'm with her." So they kicked me out too, by association. Unresponsive by association. This was sort of the same deal considering I was standing at the bar, perfectly sober, watching in slow motion as Vee and Bee attempted their little drink swap and felt like saying "hey guys, we should be smarter than the 22 year old behind the bar, lets walk 10 feet that way and play sneak a drink." But it was too late.

As we were leaving I just had to laugh because, lesson learned, it was time to go back to my grown up life.

And then our friend Basilio called...