I haven't had an opportunity to walk around the Meatpacking District since I left my post here at Joonbug several months ago. So, last weekend's warmth and signs of spring got me out of my apartment and downtown to check out how some of my favorite nightclubs were doing. As I was walking down 9th Avenue, I thought it would be fun to see who was where and if the scene had changed at all in the past few months. It was good to hear the bass pumping at Tenjune and a flow of beautiful women walking out of Cielo. Around the corner was a whole different story though. Expecting to see the B(and C)-list wannabes drooling to get into the notoriously exclusive Provocateur, I ended up being the one with my mouth hung open when I passed the purple-lit door.
And the view was this...
Blonde model-ish type on top of a rickety old table flicking his cigarette on the ground in front of the door. Doorgirl in typical Saturday night dress hanging out, looking like one of those Subway salesmen trying to get people to buy their stuff. Where were all the people? Has Provocateur finally gotten so exclusive that they simply aren't letting anyone in? More likely though, they have finally gotten to the point where no one wants to spend their entire Saturday night standing in front of the velvet rope waiting to get into someplace that will simply never give them access. Who was inside? Perhaps it was the one really tragic-looking guy with a lot of money and bottles and a few girls who don't speak much English.
Are the days of Provocateur coming to an end? In comparison to their neighbors around the corner, it looks as though the pinnacle of nightlife may be becoming the Frontier Wasteland, waiting to vanish into a summer wind.