It’s All About the Kicks

I learned an important lesson recently when I got rejected from a nightclub because of my shoes. Even if you’re actually 21, a club can still kick you out based on dress code. Here’s the story:

The college bar scene, while great, can get old. As I got closer to 21, I couldn’t wait to start hitting the trendy nightclubs downtown. For most people, in the first two years of college, the only legal experiences with bars is at 18+ college nights. Besides that you’re passing back IDs, sneaking in the side door, or you laminated an ID you made in Microsoft Word.Lets face it, even if you have a really good fake ID, you never feel totally safe inside a bar while underage. All that stuff works OK at your college bar, but to go to a nice club in the city, I wanted to be actually 21. Recently it was my friend’s 21st birthday, and enough of us had turned now to get a sizable clubbing group together. We thought we’d hop on the train and give the big city nightlife a shot.

After a solid pregame, composed of beers bought legally and a bottle of scotch found luckily, we headed for the club. It was a little intimidating, but what did I have to worry about, we were all actually 21, this was totally legit. One by one we hand our IDs to the bouncer, and all get in no problem. As I’m walking inside, a hand on my shoulder stops me. “Hold it.” I’m thinking what’s the problem, did I give him my old fake by mistake?“Sorry man, Not with those shoes, not on a Saturday.”

Come again? “Your shoes, I can’t do it, not on a weekend. Come back some other time.” This was right after Christmas, so I was dressed in all my nice new clothes. I hadn’t looked this good in months, easily. I showered, shaved, and gelled my hair for this. I’d waited 21 years to be allowed to hit the club scene, and now I can’t get in because of my shoes? This guy had to be kidding.

Turns out trendy big-city clubs are actually very serious about their dress codes. I was wearing a really sweet pair of black Nike’s. These shoes are so hot they have gotten me laid on at least one occasion. But anything with the Nike swoosh is not allowed inside on a Saturday night.

The college bars I’d been to before this had no dress code. I used to roll up in sweatpants and sunglasses. The closest a bouncer ever came to not letting me in based on apparel was the time I wore a bandanna and he told me I looked gay. Don’t make the same mistake I did: no matter how sick your kicks are, if you’re going someplace nice, put on nice shoes.

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