Tenjune is one of those clubs I’ve always resisted getting intimate with, hanging out there a handful of times but always in passing. For some unknown reason, my friends have always framed the idea as:

“Let’s swing by Tenjune,” as opposed to, “Let’s spend the night at Tenjune.”

I wrote about my mild dislike of the place and briefly made fun of their Halloween decorations, only to realize recently that I never really gave this establishment a fair chance. So I set up my Saturday evening with the intention of scoping out this hotspot for real.

I tagged along with a promoter and therefore experienced a stress-free, smooth entry around 12:15 AM. Yes it was mad early, and the inside of the club reflected this. While the dance floor and bar were cluttered with people, the surrounding, elevated VIP section remained void of human activity. This made the club surprisingly comfortable and I relished in the fact that my friends and I could dance without having our noses pressed up into one another’s sweat glands. Sweat was nowhere to be found in fact, since Alaskan-style air blast through the club’s vents at high frequency. I’d recently purchased a fashion statement of a jacket that I enjoyed showing off so didn’t mind, but my heart went out to the sundress-clad ladies suddenly smothered in goosebumps.

The DJ spun everything from rap to Billy Joel to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song to Ministry of Sound in a surprisingly smooth flow. The club’s population count and temperature rose naturally over the next half-hour and it wasn’t until one of my guy friends elbowed me in the ribs while performing a head jerk that I realized the man in the table next to us was Kanye West.

Kanye West!?!?

I’m one of those people who remain stoic and unenthusiastic about celebrity sightings, but Kayne West!?! He’s perhaps the coolest male artist you could see these days, primarily because he invented terms like “go ahead, go nuts, go apeshit,” which my friends and I have adopted in regular speech. So I admit that my excitement went up a notch and I became even more determined to thoroughly enjoy the evening.

About Kanye: He partied with three male members of his entourage and a breathtakingly beautiful Rihanna-looking girl who had the most enviable legs I’ve ever seen. A girlfriend of mine, who follows celebrity stalker publications said that she’d seen pictures of this sizzlin lady with Kanye on his recent beach vacation. Nice!

Kanye himself wore a plain green T-shirt, jeans, crazy cool sneakers that were a hybrid between Nikes and Uggs, and a plain cloth baseball cap worn elevated and twisted to one side. He’s remarkably short. In fact, I’d described him as child size. (Note: Being the only table next to him, we were all expressly asked by management not to take photographs).

Kanye didn’t smoke or drink the entire evening. He did however, look relaxed and like he was having a good time. He alternated between sitting on the banquette focusing on his cell phone and jiving on top of the banquette dancing in small, jerky movements, occasionally pausing to chat with the gorgeous female hottie.

Immediately, my stress-prone brain began to wonder: Kanye’s tunes are such a club staple – How does a DJ best handle the music situation when the artist himself is in the house? Does that mean you play more Kanye songs? Or does it mean to you play none at all?

I pondered this dilemma until the DJ finally bust out “Stronger” and the crowd went wild. I immediately honed in on Kanye eager for some sort of reaction on his part, but got nothing. Throughout the beginning of the song he tapped away on his cell phone, seemingly oblivious, then stood up and enjoyed his music with everyone else.

“Would he sing along?” I wondered. “Or is he so totally sick of hearing his own music that he wants to barf right now?” Again, I observed him like a veteran stalker and didn’t see him mouth any of the words (although his gorgeous lady friend was singing them at the top of her lungs). Later on, the DJ played “The Good Life.” Kanye got a little more into this tune and even sang a tiny bit by the end.

Kanye and his entourage rolled out of the club unusually early and all that was left by 1:45 AM was their empty bottles. Overall, I enjoyed the Tenjune experience, although I don’t know how much of my review is bias since the most famous rapper of the moment was literally 3 feet away.

I do give Tenjune props for keeping their VIP area roomier than other places. If you do decide to invest in a table you’re truly are gaining some privacy and breathing room since a bouncer guards the prive area (unlike Pink Elephant or Kiss and Fly’s elevated areas for example). This surprised me because on previous visits to Tenjune I felt like the club was unbearably crowded. Maybe the weekend party load has been lightened thanks to New Yorkers jetting off to the Hamptons or maybe Tenjune really does deserve props for keeping their club appropriately below capacity. Either way, whatever my previous issue with this locale, it suddenly seemed unimportant.

Another cool feature of note is that the club provided a ‘make your own shot’ service at the tables. They give you many mixers (watermelon, yes!) as well as shot glasses and a shaker. So the wanna-be bartender of your group can cocktail shots all night long for anyone who’s interested. I thought this was a fun feature to what’s otherwise a boring, cookie-cutter table set up.

Who knows? At this rate, I think I’ll be frequenting Tenjune again.

Spring has been an eternal excuse for people to get a little frisky; to let their guard down, let their worries down, let their pants down, etc. Folks are coupling off faster than you can count flowers and the word ‘Hamptons’ seems to penetrate every New York conversation. Many of us who spent chilly winter evenings enwrapped in a duvet cover eating ramen in front of game shows are now out every night – because there’s sun, because Happy Hours are actually ‘happy,’ because you don’t need industrial strength layers, mittens, and warm accessories to get where you need to go. All you need’s a sundress, a song and a skip.

While this all sounds fabulous, it’s a big lifestyle adjustment to trade your nightly mac’n’cheese in bed for nightly evenings at Marquee. All this joyousness can lead to a condition I like to call ‘Spring Over Kill.’ The symptoms include severe exhaustion, daily hangovers, and hormones going haywire. Since the long-awaited good weather’s irresistible, you’re incapable of taking it easy at home. You’ve shed your hermit skin and have transformed into a social butterfly that’s out 24-7. The problem is that if you overdo it partying now, you’ll be dead before summer.

So in an attempt to help cure cases of SOK (Spring Over Kill), I’ve created a reference to analyze how we’re all handling the change of seasons. Utilize the spring nightlife guide below to determine if your party fever’s OK, dangerous, or out of control to the point where you need to padlock yourself in your apartment for some R&R.

Entrance Drama

OK: You know the doorman’s name
Dangerous: You have a secret handshake
Lock Yourself Up: You bolt the club closed together before 5 A.M. breakfast

Bottle Service

OK: Just when clients are in town
Dangerous: Just when anyone’s in town
Lock Yourself Up: As long as you’re in town

After Clubbing Snacks

OK: Occasional street meat
Dangerous: The vendor knows how spicy you like your taco
Lock Yourself Up: You have an automatically renewing 4 A.M. reservation at L’Express

Dating

OK: You pick up some numbers
Dangerous: You pick up some people
Lock Yourself Up: You can’t pick up anyone you haven’t already hooked up with

Bathrooms

OK: You use the shortcut
Dangerous: You’re used to the bathroom attendant greeting you with a hug
Lock Yourself Up: You use the staff bathroom and have the access code memorized

Night Doorman

OK: He expects you home between 2 and 4 A.M.
Dangerous: He often has to carry you in
Lock Yourself Up: You get home so late he’s already off shift

Promoters

OK: You get 3 – 5 promotional texts a day
Dangerous: You reply to 3 – 5 promotional texts a day
Lock Yourself Up: You participate to the extent where people think you’re a promoter yourself

Drinking

OK: A few drinks never killed anyone
Dangerous: A few bottles never killed anyone
Lock Yourself Up: Regular blackouts never killed anyone

Shots

OK: On special occasions, fine
Dangerous: On every occasion, cheers!
Lock Yourself Up: Constantly circulating on platters, thanks!

Hangovers

OK: Sometimes my head hurts
Dangerous: Sometimes I forget how to multiply and divide
Lock Yourself Up: I don’t get hangovers thanks to my mimosa intake the next morning.

Liquor Intake

OK: Politely sipping from a champagne flute or drinking through a straw
Dangerous: Through six straws
Lock Yourself Up: Directly from bottle

Security

OK: The security guard doesn’t know me
Dangerous: The security guard knows I’m a regular
Lock Yourself Up: The security guard knows more about my life then I do

Credit Card

OK: Always in my wallet
Dangerous: Always behind a bar
Lock Yourself Up: Always missing and could be at Scores

Results

Mostly OKs: Continue to party responsibly

Dangerous: Make yourself stay in with a movie at least thee times this week

Lock Yourself Up: Put down the drink you’re holding. Detox in bed with Echinacea and green tea. No going out again until you can complete the mental equivalent of a crossword or intermediate Sudoku puzzle.

Miss Model Behavior’s the new nightlife writer for theBlaqlist.com. Feel free to post any nightlife comments or questions on our forum or contact her at MissModelBehavior@theBlaqlist.com