Scenes from a never-ending party
2:45 a.m., Cobra
“Let’s get drunk and fuck! Let’s get drunk and fuck!”
I’m at Cobra, a King West club in a sprawling basement underneath a 19th-century warehouse. In this neighbourhood, the best parties are either deep underground or high above in a rooftop bar. Cobra is decorated like a gothic funhouse, with a wall of glowing skulls and lots of black. The get-drunk-and-fuck directive bleats from a techno remix as coloured lights, inducing a kind of electric synesthesia, pulsate on the basement ceiling. To my left, two girls make out and topple over, knocking down their bottle service glassware. Guys eagerly watch from the sidelines, plotting how to make their move. My teeth chatter from the vibrating bass. I down a shot that’s half Sour Puss and half vodka, proffered by a human Barbie doll bartender.
I’d arrived at 11:30 p.m., waited my turn to pass through the velvet rope, and carefully made my way down the steep staircase (a bitch to do when you’re wearing six-inch stilettos, like most women here, including me). At first the club was nearly empty, with men and women separated in groups as if it were a middle school dance. But as the night progressed, the room filled and the ladies began to pose and grind for an audience of ethnically diverse guys in shiny loafers. Every once in a while, a waitress walks by holding a tray laden with liquor bottles. When a patron orders a $650 bottle of Cristal, Cobra attaches a sparkler to it with an elastic, so it lights a pathway to the club’s very important patrons as the waitress carries it across the room.
One by one, the guys attack—placing clammy hands on trim waists, stubble on well-moisturized cheeks, come-ons on deaf ears. Conversation consists of “What’s up tonight?” and “I can’t hear you, the music’s too loud!” By 3 a.m., the club is nearly empty except for one or two defiant couples, courting the inevitability of what happens at the end of the night.
The opening event for the Thompson Hotel was the high point of cool for the neighbourhood and a warning of the coming deluge of weekend partiers
The entrances to many of the neighbourhood’s nightclubs are hidden in brick-paved alleys that were originally designed to ship products more efficiently to the street’s warehouses. Outside Cobra, three chicks from Western smoke on a striped chaise longue by a cluster of heat lamps, and giggle over the guys they rejected. They tell me they drove in for the weekend to celebrate a friend’s birthday. The prettiest of them, a fragile 20-year-old blonde with a passing resemblance to Kirsten Dunst, is wearing a black lace dress from Urban Behavior, rhinestone earrings from Ardene, $25 bejewelled satin pumps and no coat even though it’s zero degrees and dropping.
I turn my attention back to the street. It’s time I go home to Parkdale, but hailing a cab is a nightmare: King West is a tangle of stretch Hummers and lost packs of bachelorettes. My idea of a big night out used to consist of drinking PBR in a dingy bar in Little Portugal. But over the past few months, as I attempted to figure out why King West became one giant party, I spent nearly every weekend on the strip, dining on foie gras at Brassaii, getting my makeup retouched at C Lounge, avoiding groping guys at the Firkin. Throughout my travels, I met a concert promoter in his late 50s named Gerry, who invited me back to his multimillion-dollar house on Richmond, where we smoked pot and listened to Captain Beefheart; a cop who flashed me his badge and pretended to arrest me “for being so beautiful”; and a guy who swore he wasn’t a rapist as he begged me to join him in his limo. As I make my way home, it occurs to me that this is the only neighbourhood in Toronto where people make direct eye contact.
With an opening line like this one and the accompanying photo who isn’t going to head to (the horrible) king west strip now.
Dear girl in photo: might I suggest contacting me asap.
February 9, 2011 at 3:17 pm | by JgamAlso, i Hope your parents don’t read Toronto life.
We just vented about the very same thing!!!
Check out our VLOG about a recent visit to DOLCE!
http://t.co/bAjRpP9
February 9, 2011 at 4:32 pm | by MRFORCHO(NOT SPAM, LEGIT LINK TO A FUNNY VLOG ON THIS TOPIC!!!!)
KING WEST WAS NEVER COOL ! ever . ever . i lived there from 1999 on and watched the evolution from semi-urban chachis going out and getting wasted to fully suburban chachis going out and getting wasted . KING WEST WAS NEVER COOL . susur was a good restaurant . SO WHAT . king west went from quiet old factory buildings and businesses to try-hard condo dwellers to extra puke and the spoke club is the most disgusting elitist rich kid douche trap in the city . susur and the spoke club do not represent a time when king west was cool ! they were just the tip of the vomit iceberg .
pbr has always been for pretentious “hipster” kids and writing that you used to drink it on dundas west doesnt make you any less stupid for writing this stupid article . stop saying you are from parkdale just because you live there . gag
February 9, 2011 at 5:01 pm | by ewGreat write up from a woman’s point of view especially. Way to tell like it is without bashing the partying scene on King West to bits. It is what it is. Either partake, or stay the f*ck out. Nobody will care or miss you anyway – male or female.
February 9, 2011 at 5:10 pm | by JoJoDEAR JOJO TORONTO DOESNT LIKE YOU GO BACK TO THE SUBURBS STOP PUKING AND FIGHTING ALL OVER OUR STREETS GOOOH HOOOOME
February 10, 2011 at 12:21 am | by gohomejojoLove the pics! – the guys looks like terrorists and the chicks look like bimbos…excellent combination!!! Now if we could only move them to Montreal…..hmmmm
February 10, 2011 at 5:51 am | by AreThoseRealI was considering moving to this area for work but on second thought…. no thank you!
February 10, 2011 at 6:46 am | by anonThe article’s pretty redundant. If this is your bag, go to King West. If not, exercise your CHOICE to go elsewhere. No biggie.
Bonus points to ‘Fashion-Glasses’ wearer Chandler for managing not to sound completely smug. Demerit for pathetic hipster-pandering with the lame PBR reference. What age is she anyway?
February 10, 2011 at 8:05 am | by G..so where do you go for a decent night out??? any suggestions??
February 10, 2011 at 10:27 am | by kykeYou realize these activities only happen on Fri & Sat between midnight and 4am. If you lived in the area and spent any time there you’d realize its a nice quiet neighborhood to live in. But please, dont take my word for it, keep your vision of king west and keep your parkdale wankery out of my hood.
February 10, 2011 at 10:29 am | by MrPotatoI love Tsoumaris’ party mantra of not wanting to work behind a desk and party forever. A lot of us say that in our twenties and then slowly and surely the majority slowly start to filter away from the club scenes, the hangovers become harsher and you need that desk job to support your family and other endeavors that you wish to pursue. You also don’t want to be that creepy fifty year old eyeing all the nineteen year olds from the back corners. That’s not to say that nights of vapid drunkeness do not occur, just a lot less frequently. People have partied, do party and will continue to do so well into the future.
February 10, 2011 at 10:34 am | by PLMaybe people need to realize that this person is writing an article??
Writers are supposed to share their perspective in order to communicate with the masses about topics of interest; and believe it or not in today’s tech-era that also can include a vast array of topics some consider insignificant. Like, Ummm I don’t know … let me think: Jersey Shore, Cake Boss(which i personally believe should be aired before and after Biggest Loser), The Hills, Who’s Your Daddy, Bachelor/ette, anything K-Dash, Kate Plus 8, Real Houswives of WHO CARES?? etc, etc, etc.
So, if you choose to hate on this person for offering their opinion (WHICH IS VALID) then why don’t you EXERCISE your CHOICE and don’t read this damn article. Instead of telling someone not to contribute to society by being a writer (you come off sounding like a Nazi wanting to burn books and articles you don’t agree with) why not try and provide a counter argument? I may no appreciate this person’s take on what is good for the city, but you can’t argue that they are WRONG or shouldn’t write down their experiences they feel are relevant; WHICH IS WHAT YOU DID DOUCHE. Especially since this person can be held legally liable for any defimation of character … I’ll wait to see who’s right on this one.
February 10, 2011 at 11:44 am | by RentaTainmentIt’s clear that someone must have pushed Ew off the elevator on the way up to the Spoke Club then doused him in PBR as he walked-sobbed on his way home to sit in the dark and sob some more.
Such vapid generalizations targeted at a members-only establishment, oops “elitist rich kid douche trap”, simply breeds contempt amongst the uninitiated. While you’re at it – defaming the places whose business practices you can’t understand, spew spittle over golf clubs, the Toronto Athletic Club or any private establishment that wishes to cater to a certain ilk of people. An ilk that you have disdain for. And that’s fine, because that ilk would rather not associate with someone who also clearly hates proper punctuation and syntax.
Your comment just magnifies the fact that you are a pessimistic simpleton. Please get some regression therapy sessions to discover the points throughout your life when a member of The Spoke, a hipster drinking PBR, Susur’s magnificent Asian slaw, a Parkdale resident and “suburban chachis” assaulted you, thus leaving you sullen and embittered.
February 10, 2011 at 11:58 am | by VSGNEWSFLASH – This sort of behaviour happens everywhere!!! I guess if you get trashed in parkdale or yorkville its ok. Just not in kingwest becuase then your a douche bag.
People just need to relax and have a good time. Some people like rock other like techno.
The writer comes off as very judgemental. Wow, you live in parkdale with all the crack addicts and alcoholics. Good for you!
February 10, 2011 at 12:07 pm | by ChimmyHonestly, King West will.. and always be…filled with dives and wanna-be’s.
February 10, 2011 at 12:28 pm | by brooklin99A large majority of the cliental shop at stores such as Le Chateau, Stitches, and Fairweather. Most wouldn’t recognize a good pair of high-end designer shoes.
It’s too bad – the area had the potential to be something special like some of the great neighbourhoods in New York City. If any of you Barbie’s are unsure where New York City is, it is located in the state of New York in the U.S.A.