Case files closed on the Kiss & Fly cone saga (sort of.) I finally decided to have a serious chat with the bathroom attendant and almost tripped into the sink when she revealed that she ASKED someone to put a cone / cone(s) on the toilet.

“The toilet is not broken,” she emphasized in our chaotic interview. “The door is broken. You can’t close that door.” She pointed to the wooden panel that would seal off that bathroom, currently open and held in place by a trash can.

As per usual, it was too loud and sweaty with too many girls retouching make-up to prolong such an absurd conversation in an attempt to clarify. The gist of her rationale seemed to be that women had been trying to use that bathroom, but couldn’t close or lock the door. My questions:

a) Since when is privacy valued in a club setting? A place where girls share stalls and friends guard friends’ bathroom doors anyway?

b) Why can’t they get the door fixed? Geez. That would be even easier and less gross than repairing a toilet.

A new mystery revolves around this crazy vodka called Snow Queen. Can someone enlighten me about this beverage? In the dark, cradled in a bucket of ice, it looks suspiciously like Grey Goose. I guessed Snow Queen was some generic vodka Kiss & Fly economically chose to pawn off on promoter tables. It tastes frighteningly like nothing (allowing for unconscious mass-consumption) and gave me the worst hangover of my life. So I did some research and found that Snow Queen vodka’s the new quality product from Kazakhstan. According to their website and wiki, it’s also won some awards.

Side question: Who bestows liquor awards? I’m assuming a panel of judges who get to drink all day? That’s a great job.

So now I don’t know if Snow Queen vodka is super classy or super trashy. Is it the new Grey Goose or is it distilled from the tears and old bathwater of Kazakhstani senior citizens? Anyone who’s a liquor expert, fill us all in.

On a separate yet related Kiss & Fly note, this Go-Go girls’ outfit isn’t really working for me. I think the Kiss & Fly dancers had a much better things going for them when the feathers were on their chest instead of their rump.

Update! Update!

The Kiss & Fly cone has multiplied. [Old photo above] There are now TWO. Note the new side view photo I took to properly showcase this point.

I guess I thought that by drawing attention to it via the Internet, the cone would somehow magically disappear and get removed by a Kiss & Fly janitor who’s also a devout reader of my blog.

Not the case!

In fact, the opposite has occurred. The club seems to be promoting the mysterious bathroom stall (rumored as a coke room, but this can’t be true because the stall doesn’t even have a proper door and Kiss is not a place like Upstairs, geez) as a traffic cone hosting facility.

Fix this toilet already or just riddle me a reason for this bizarre set up!

I almost brought up Issue Cone with one of the owners last night over casual conversation, but then realized he might not find it so amusing that I write about the intimate quirks of his club online for sport. I was also way too drunk to conduct a proper interview and figured he’d might think I was dropping acid when all my questions revolved around an orange construction object I’ve fondly named Earl. Plus, it’s in the women’s room. Is he even aware?

I’ll work on getting an eventual statement from him. More disconcerting at the moment, is the fact that my favorite part about journeying to Kiss & Fly is not the music, free drinks, good-looking revelers or really pretty disco ball, but rather my nightly check-up on the cone.

In less interesting news, Kiss also got their Amazon-braided dancers completely halter free bikini tops. Take a look. No back strap. No front strap. No strap in between. How do these things stay on their shaking lady parts? If it’s adhesive and they have to glue feathers to their breasts, I really hope they’re getting paid extra for that.

More mysteries, unsolved.

Since its inauguration, I’ve perpetually found myself confused when writing about Meatpacking hotspot Kiss & Fly. On the one hand, they copied the décor and vibe of Pink Elephant disco ball by disco ball and are home to dirt-encrusted outdoor traffic cones and even worse, rumored B&T. On the other hand, Pink was getting old anyway, Kiss boasts an impressive ambiance, I’ve never noticed nor been bothered by the rumored B&T, and what better spot does zone-Little West 12th have to offer?

Often, you begin nights at Kiss in a desolate empty arena. I usually enter the club at 12:30pm scowling, not just because of the irritating, indoor security check point guy whose job is to annoy you into checking you coat. The dance floor’s empty, the tables few and far between, and the entire club resembles the Siberian desert. The only sound is the wind whispering across the landscape i.e. the air conditioning vents humming to the non-movement of disappointed guests. You’ll sit and start clicking on your cell phone S.O.S.ing for alternate plans and somehow, consistently, magically, inexplicably, when you shut your phone and stand back up the club’s transformed to look like this:

[All photos compliments of the talented Emma Cleary and her very large camera]

Kiss & Fly does deserve the award for consistently filling up, usually with exceptional energy. Just don’t expect it to happen before 1:30am. Recently, their Thursday night party has featured a live sax player, adding a dynamic element to the music and infiltrating the soul of the crowd. Also adding to the scene is the cabaret-style sparkle dancers, who pitch in with a dash of sensuality and exoticism.

Everyone here seems to be having a good time…

If someone could teach me how to braid my hair in this Laura Croft meets Tarzan up-do that’d be great.

And perhaps it’s true or perhaps I just like to see it this way, but I always enjoy thinking of Pink Elephant and Kiss & Fly in a kind of brutal rivalry for the same sceney house-music crowd. Whether this is the case or not, I want to know: Who is winning?