Vogue the

The Vogue — or the Old, as I liked to call it — is the original Alligator Lounge, or the Wrinkle Room — this place has so many names. They had beds in the back of the club — as if! It’s the Bob Hope crowd in here — lots of lonely, desperate women that think Joan Collins and Linda Evans are still relevent. As soon as you pull into the parking lot and see the Oldsmobile, Lincoln and Mercury Grand Marquis touring sedans, you know that you’ve landed on Planet Geriatrica. The DJ’s here are young enough to be the patrons grandsons. The outfits are crazy — very DYNASTY, padded shoulders and clunky jewelry, and I LOVE LUCY red dyed hair. The men think they are Robert DeNiro in CASINO — loads of cranberry and turquoise silk, matching sunglasses, very old Miami when Hebrew mobsters hung out at ice cream colored hotels w/​French names — I stole that from Truman Capote, by the way. It’s like a meeting of the AARP. Sadly, I don’t think this place exists… thanks for the memories, my friend.