Dear Mansion...

I have had several revelations after visiting your venue last evening that I now wish to share.

There is a reason that I don't visit places like you often, at last night it was as glaring as the light on the E train: I don't fit in! Polos and pearls don't quite mesh with the scantily clad dancers and dry ice you serve up. I am still trying to figure out the point of the opera singer and the women dangling from the ceiling. If anyone can shine some light on this situation for me, it would be greatly appreciated.

And smoking inside? What was that all about? That may have been the best or worst idea anyone in that place has ever had. Somebody call Bloomberg.

But most of all, it reminded me just how tough it is to be a single twenty something on this island. Because no matter how many people smile at you or ask if you need a refill, none of it means ANYTHING. And dear God, why would you want it to? I watched boys fluctuate between girlfriends and the girls that they wished they could be with, and it dawned on me that even if you're attached, you aren't guaranteed much.

What a frightening thought.

Not that there aren't good guys in this city; I may even know one or two. But there aren't much more than that, and they get scooped up quickly.

So while I had fun, I must say that places like the Dirty D are much more my speed. I can do the Shout and take shots with the bartender. I like that it's personal. And while you are beautiful, my dear friend, you are also quite cold.

I'm glad you allowed me to step out of my little pink and green box for the evening. Dancing on the catwalk sure was fun! I hope to come back. I appreciate the reminder that it's fun to do a little something different every now and then. Oh, and that I want to remain single for as little as possible.

Thanks for the laughs.

A little love,

TAG