Monday evenings at Dark Horse is a sad sad scene. Aging party animals, older couples, the occasional young person that may be able to hold a legit conversation. But after only a few seconds, it’s impossible to ignore the vibrations and distinct beat insistently traveling from your feet through to your heart. It’s five bucks each to follow your gut to the basement of Dark Horse. This last night, Salli and I only had eight bucks total, with about $1.39 in change. The bouncers were lovely and turned down our change, and accepted our measly $8. Immediately, it’s obvious that 89% of the fun people in the Highlands are dancing to karaoke graced by a live band. It’s worth saving your pennies. It’s an semi-underground ambiguously hipster (does that mean they’re true hipsters? How ironic) crowd. A lot of people we met were either musicians or graduate students at Emory or Tech. It seemed like a more mature crowd that had their heads on straight, which was surprisingly refreshing. Just a warning, you can’t buy pitchers downstairs. Karaoke starts at 10 and lasts until 2amish (after re-reading this, I’ve realized I need to clarify. I’m not suggested that the party goes ‘to Amish’ but rather to two in the morning, ish)
(12/3 Footnote: Two of our girlfriends visited Dark Horse recently on a Monday, and actually claimed that there were more people of better quality upstairs than there were downstairs. So try it out yourself. Explore.)
Always adventuring,
June
