Post by Alex Vipond on Dec 31, 2012 17:15:25 GMT -8
Nov 20, 2012, 8:33am
Trinity Nightclub
111 Yesler Way
Seattle, WA 98104
206.447.4140
One destination houses 3 clubs offering atmospheres from ethereal to electric. The heart of Trinity boasts state of the art sound and lights in a multi-level modern cathedral vibe. This IS one of Seattle’s largest dance floors, spinning the best from national and local Djs. Seating throughout is handled with comfort and style—you will appreciate the difference! The VIP room overlooks the dance floor from a balcony level and is lavishly furnished for a true cut above the rest experience.
If you want step down a notch and cool your brain, the “Blue Room” will be your spot. Separate bar service in an ultra-hip two tone setting keep the energy going in a more intimate setting. This room promises to be talked about.
When you’re ready to lounge like you never have before, the “Card Room” shows that our eclectic stylings can satisfy your needs in an surrounding like no other. Atmospheric spinning sets the tone with one-to-one conversation. And when you get a little hungry, Dim Sum and other “new thinking” menu items are offered throughout the night.
Doormen discretion at all times. 21+ with valid ID and presentable attire required.
That was the hype. The reality was, that the VIP room was more than just exclusive. There were two types of patrons. Those who drank, and those who got off on being drank from. Freshies, they were called. At least in LA when he'd first heard of such a club. Short for Fresh Source. Better than bottled. One of the perks, or maybe a draw back, was anything that was in the freshy's system, you got, second hand. Booze. Ecstasy. You name it. You could get your second hand high. If you wanted it. However, once in a while, you'd tap a bad vein. A freshy who had more than imbibed. One who pushed the limits of human tolerances, and in some cases, vampire tolerances, depending on the substance.
Have you ever tapped a vein only to realize too late that you'd fucked up? It wasn't pretty. It was never pretty. The resulting hangover was even less pretty. By the time the garage door rattled down behind my murdered out Benz, the sun was up. Hazard of passing out in the parking lot. A week earlier and I would have been a little on the crisp side. Which reminds me, I need to send a thank you note to my car guy.
Trinity Nightclub
111 Yesler Way
Seattle, WA 98104
206.447.4140
One destination houses 3 clubs offering atmospheres from ethereal to electric. The heart of Trinity boasts state of the art sound and lights in a multi-level modern cathedral vibe. This IS one of Seattle’s largest dance floors, spinning the best from national and local Djs. Seating throughout is handled with comfort and style—you will appreciate the difference! The VIP room overlooks the dance floor from a balcony level and is lavishly furnished for a true cut above the rest experience.
If you want step down a notch and cool your brain, the “Blue Room” will be your spot. Separate bar service in an ultra-hip two tone setting keep the energy going in a more intimate setting. This room promises to be talked about.
When you’re ready to lounge like you never have before, the “Card Room” shows that our eclectic stylings can satisfy your needs in an surrounding like no other. Atmospheric spinning sets the tone with one-to-one conversation. And when you get a little hungry, Dim Sum and other “new thinking” menu items are offered throughout the night.
Doormen discretion at all times. 21+ with valid ID and presentable attire required.
That was the hype. The reality was, that the VIP room was more than just exclusive. There were two types of patrons. Those who drank, and those who got off on being drank from. Freshies, they were called. At least in LA when he'd first heard of such a club. Short for Fresh Source. Better than bottled. One of the perks, or maybe a draw back, was anything that was in the freshy's system, you got, second hand. Booze. Ecstasy. You name it. You could get your second hand high. If you wanted it. However, once in a while, you'd tap a bad vein. A freshy who had more than imbibed. One who pushed the limits of human tolerances, and in some cases, vampire tolerances, depending on the substance.
Have you ever tapped a vein only to realize too late that you'd fucked up? It wasn't pretty. It was never pretty. The resulting hangover was even less pretty. By the time the garage door rattled down behind my murdered out Benz, the sun was up. Hazard of passing out in the parking lot. A week earlier and I would have been a little on the crisp side. Which reminds me, I need to send a thank you note to my car guy.