Ladies Night

Looking for a good time

I'm a bad lesbian. I rarely go to gay pride events, I've only seen one episode of The L Word, you couldn't get me anywhere near Lilith Fair. And I hardly ever hit the Valley's gay and lesbian clubs anymore.

There are a few reasons for this: There's too much she said-she said drama in the small scene. The music (mostly Top 40 and hip-hop) isn't my bag. And the women in lesbian clubs tend to not be as hot as the women in straight clubs.

I also don't have a lot of lesbian friends. Most of my female friends are either straight or consider themselves bisexual. So when I go out with them, we usually hit rock clubs, metrosexual dance nights like Tranzylvania at Palazzo and French Kiss at Burn, or fetish events.

I've had some really great nights at places like NYC's Clit Club and London's Candy Bar in Soho. What made those places so much fun were the reputations that preceded them — they had distinct identities that drew people in. Clit Club lived up to its rep as the hottest lesbian night with the hottest women and the hottest music in the East Village (until the clubs that hosted it closed). And Candy Bar has the distinction of serving several signature shots you won't find anywhere else and attracting celebs like Martina Navratilova, Naomi Campbell, and Belinda Carlisle.

Most important, both places had hordes of hot women, which — let's face it — is the one thing you gotta have to bring in the lesbians. Glamour is not just the domain of gay men. It takes more than a pitcher of beer and a pool table to get some of us to stick around.

I can't totally tear down Phoenix's gay and lesbian bar scene. The sheer number of lesbian and gay clubs alone deserves some props (31 at last count). Then again, I'm from Indiana, which has more KKK chapters than it ever will gay clubs. Still, without a constant influx of celebrities or big-city hotties, our Sapphic nightspots here in the Valley suffer from a serious case of sameness. One lesbian bar is as good (or bad) as another. Everything's so subjective when it comes to clubs, anyway. What really makes one bar better than another?

Having a good time is what counts, no matter where you are, and the key to a good time is not necessarily a nightclub. In my opinion, it's about having great friends and making your own fun, whether you're drinking Cosmos and doing the electric slide in the bar bathroom, or acting stupid at the Filiberto's drive-thru speaker at 3 a.m.

In Phoenix, you can't count on the lesbian clubs to have the party — yougotta be ready to bring the party.

Since several of our city's lesbian clubs are clustered in central Phoenix, club-hopping is pretty convenient. And on a recent Friday night, that's exactly what my girlfriend CooKie and I decided to do. There's this new weekly at Club Vibe called "Boobie" that we wanted to check out. The flier promised "AZ's finest ladies every Friday night," and a music mix of reggaeton and Spanish pop. We decided to make Boobie our last stop of the night because it looked like it might have the most action. And though things didn't really turn out as planned, I ended up having more fun in Phoenix on a way too hot summer night than I did at Clit Club or Candy Bar.


When I met CooKie at a fetish event in Tucson almost two years ago, I had no idea what was in store. She kept talking about "her girls" (as in the Pussy Posse Girls, the edgy burlesque troupe), and all these crazy things she'd done with them. CooKie is the leader of the Posse and a prominent figure in the Phoenix fetish scene; she's got a reputation for getting wild with several women at once. She quickly showed me that she doesn't have to do anything but send a mass text message to surround herself with sexy ladies.

In the two years I've known CooKie, I've met more hot, horny women than I did during nine years of clubbing. And since CooKie and I are both commitment-phobic, we have an open relationship. Basically, that means we're "together" but we both casually date other people, and picking up chicks is a team effort when we're out.

Tonight, CooKie's agreed to come with me on the condition that she can bring squirt guns. She's looking for trouble.

CooKie will definitely get attention this evening — at almost 6 feet in her elevated shoes, with an assortment of tattoos, brandings, and implants (most recently, a set of high-end hooters from a Scottsdale plastic surgeon), she stands out.

After taking in some country music and watching women with mullets line dance at the Cash Inn, we swing by the pitch-black Incognito on Thomas, which (surprise!) isn't open.

CooKie keeps sending text messages to the Posse Girls, trying to get them to meet up with us at some of these places. Nobody seems interested in anything but Boobie, but CooKie and I are saving that for later because we want to get there when everybody's drunk and bumpin'.

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14 comments
terri
terri

I really enjoyed this article, and want to thank Nicki for writing it. Sorry if it didn't appeal to the masses, aka, the non-lesbian/bisexual female community, but I thought it was funny and provided some good insight into the bar scene. I've lived here for about 6 months and really haven't been out much, but now I have an idea of where to go, just in time for some friends who are visiting next month. Thanks again!

Lobster
Lobster

Not Surprised, all I know is that if I was a lesbian coming for a visit to Phoenix, I'd go to Z-Girl club because they throw a better party as opposed to the other clubs visited. That was what the article was about right? That certainly looks like journalism to me. As for the creativity, I wish I was creative enough to get into a water pistol fight with a bunch of hot lesbians. But, that's just me. Well, me and most other men. ;)

Not Surprised
Not Surprised

This isn't journalism. It's a lame personal diary entry from a writer with no creativity. It's sad that the New Times must resort to filling pages with this crap.

guitar god
guitar god

Talking about Tesla always gets him hot.

Ed Fury
Ed Fury

Oddly, I once made out with Dio in the bathroom of a bar, after we had a squirt gun battle.

guitar god
guitar god

I hear that the Holy Diver is also super pissed about the new internet radio royalty hike.

Ed Fury
Ed Fury

I guess that makes sense, because Dio is also a member of a "edgy burlesque troop".

Niki D'Andrea
Niki D'Andrea

Fret not, guitargod. The next one will be about Ronnie James Dio's boobs and how they're affecting musicians' efforts to stop the genocide in Darfur.

guitar god
guitar god

You're goddamned right you won't find that kind of action in Tucson. People down there are too busy being "artists" and making "music" to have a good time. What a bunch of pussies.In all seriousness though, I think its really discouraging that with all the important things happening in the world of music these days, all this paper can think to write about is how awesome it was to get wasted at a shitty gay bar. On second thought, none of the important issues I'm thinking about have anything to do with Ronnie James Dio, so it stands to reason that Nikki would ignore them. I take back what I said. Give me more Boobies!

Ed Fury
Ed Fury

Couldn't find that kind of hot action in Tucson, I tell you that much.

guitar god
guitar god

I like hot girl on girl action as much as the next person, but this is sad. I say this for 2 reasons. First, my Friday night was WAY more interesting than the one described in this article. I got hammered ass drunk, saw some titties and lit a guitar on fire. My only regret is that my friends and I didn't think to put the fire out with squirt guns, that would have really sent things over the top.More importantly, I fail to see what this article has to do with the MUSIC scene in this shit town of ours.

Ed Fury
Ed Fury

Omar, you don't like titties and squirt guns? I found this article much more interesting than that crap about cops and tasers. Public safety? WHO CARES. GIVE ME MORE LESBIAN ANTICS!

Frip
Frip

The writing was done well on this article but unfortunately I'm left thinking "since when do blogs get city-wide print distribution?". I keep reading articles about a few people I don't know and their night on the town, in which nothing too exciting really happens. There was some interesting info in here, with good background about the "scene" but sometimes I just wonder why people would care to read about someone elses' night?

Omar Tentmaker
Omar Tentmaker

Squirt guns? Wet T's? How old is Niki anyway? 13 1/2? I guess you have to find readers where you can.

 
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