After he finishes, there are a few polite cheers and the sounds of crickets chirping in the background. Most people decide that night, on the spur of the moment, that they want to participate. But really, I think everyone feels welcome here, especially for the shower contest because it's all about letting go, not taking things too seriously and having a good time. But it's still early, and just a few earlybirds are sipping cocktails in the plush velvety booths, biding their time before Glasgow-based DJ Paul Gordon takes to the tables. I head up to Fifth Floor for a little pre-partying, as it were.
Beautiful people converse and drink expensive-looking drinks, posing and posturing to be noticed.
There are bouncers everywhere, no doubt on the prowl to give the heave to anyone popping E or K or whatever other single-letter designer drugs the kids like to take these days. The dance floor has filled out since I left, but it isn't tough to spot the lad of about 21 spinning them like a basketball referee calling traveling, while his legs kick like a tweaked-out Russian folk dancer. He's instructing a sprightly young woman on the nuances of the glowstick dance. Perhaps it's some sort of club kid initiation ritual. And me, without my pacifier.