Fortunately TI aren’t giving up on the idea of nightclubs altogether. Instead, they’ll be replacing Tangerine with another nightclub that will open on New Year’s Eve. Apparently the reason behind Tangerine’s imminent demise is too much competition from the likes of Tao, Pure, Moon and Jet.

There’s a simple answer to that – get a better DJ! Meh!

[Source: LATimes]

But this year was different. One of the days we were too exhausted to go wandering to the bottom of the strip to the MGM and New York New York, and so ended up at Treasure Island (after a fortunately aborted attempt to get into Gilly’s!). We went to the Isla Bar, which was actually pretty chilled, with extremely pleasant waitresses, a nice atmosphere, and good tunes (although they do have to compete with the noise of the slots).

Tangerine at Treasure Island, Vegas

On the Saturday, we were determined to see the night life of Vegas, and so decided to go to Treasure Island’s Tangerine club (it was Jaime Evans’s birthday apparently, and Tangerine was helping her celebrate, and inviting everyone else to as well. Given that we share the same surname and she’s a PlayBoy model, I felt it rude to turn her down!!)

At first, we nearly didn’t bother, as the price of entry goes up from $20 to $30 for guys (although it stays at $20 throughout the week for girls). But, upon arriving at Treasure Island at 7:30pm, they were handing out free passes into Tangerine, so the cost of entry wasn’t an issue. Handy tip for you – if you’re going to a club on the strip, get there for 7:30pm – 8pm, and you should get a free pass.

Another handy tip – you’ll need your passport or driver’s licence to get in, as anyone under 40 needs photo-ID. Yes, this is mad – you drink alcohol and smoke fags in both the bars and the clubs, but only the clubs require you to show photo-ID. Presumably the dancing can corrupt young minds (or even old minds – me and my mate are 37, and even we were turned away from Coyote Ugly because we didn’t have our passports on us!!)

Anyway, back to Tangerine. The place faces the front of the strip, with a large indoor dancefloor upon entering the club, and a smaller bar area out the back that directly overlooks the pirate ships on the strip, the Wynn and the new Palazzo (see pic, above). The atmosphere is fantastic.

Not only is it warm outside (Las Vegas is in the middle of a desert, remember), but you’re surrounded by the pirate-themed trappings of Treasure Island, with a huge fake pirate ship in front of you (below), and the huge new Palazzo hotel that’s currently taking shape as a glorious backdrop, giving the impression that you’re surrounded by fabulous scenery (which you are!).

Slightly less fantastic is the choice of music. Outside they play deep house, techno, and electro, which provides a super-cool atmosphere, but no dance floor. Inside, where the dance floor is, they play shit cheesy hip hop, which has the locals whooping and hollering till they’re dry. This is tedious, clichéd, and as original as the music played at every average disco.

So it was a case of going outside to listen to the music, then back inside to dance to some pap until your ears and taste could take no more!

We got chatting to a few interesting girls (must say hi to Christa and her mum, Linda, who was nuts!), and experienced more of American culture (for want of a better word!) than we would have normally. Part of this cultural exchange was the way Americans dance on a dance floor.

The dance moves are as you’d expect (largely hip hop-based and devoid of any creativity – I’m such a dance snob!), but what’s not what you expect is the, er, ‘interaction’ between blokes and girls. A bloke will come up to a girl and start grinding into her ass. If she likes him, she lets him; if not, she waves her hand, and he disappears! All very polite – it’s as if they have rules that they follow! In the UK, nothing less than a sledgehammer will stop the committed grinder, let alone a simple flick of the wrist!!

Even more disarming was the way the girls come on to the blokes. I was dancing away merrily when suddenly a woman came up to me and started humping my leg like a frustrated dog, grinding into me with a manic grin on her face! This wasn’t a problem (nor necessarily unpleasant!), but neither was it expected!

Even more amusing, a giant woman (yes, a giant woman – they don’t things by halves in the States) picked my mate up from behind and squeezed the life out him. We both just grinned sheepishly (or painfully, in the case of my mate), and said “We’re English, you know,” hoping that would explain our complete bewilderment.

We finished the night at 3am, and staggered back to the pit we called home (and which other people call Circus Circus), with fantastic memories of a night like no other back in the UK.

If you’re in Vegas and want to check out the night life, then go to Tangerine in Treasure Island. The people are nuts, the atmosphere is glorious, and there’s nothing like it in the UK. Happy days!