So there’s this club in Austin called Spill. The Real World cast made it famous when they would go get drunk and get into fights at Spill … so naturally, Austinites worth their salt (and over the age of 21, because many of the patrons of Spill are not in fact over 21) avoid Spill at all costs.
Unfortunately, if you want a good ole-dancedown, where girls shimmy and shake and bump and grind and guys try to stand behind them while they do it, there are few places in Austin to fulfill this desire. And since The Marq‘s deejay started sucking (mixing in non-danceable ’80s tracks and cutting songs off after a 30-second spot) and the line starts snaking around the block before midnight, there is absolutely nowhere for the fabulous, fun 23-to-28-year-old demographic to just DANCE.
All of these factors (plus a stop at Prague, where our favorite bartender hooks it up every time) led my crowd to Spill last night. Much to our chagrin. Turns out, we had a fantastic time. One friend almost got kicked out (no one gets kicked out of Spill) for making faces, one friend made out with one–or was it two?–guys on the dance floor, a third sealed the deal for later on, and the rest just relished the dancing.
So I begrudgingly admit that I have a newfound fondness for Spill. Sure, they lost my ID, the door guy tried to get me to pay him to let 5 girls skip a line of 27 guys, and random 19-year-olds grabbed my butt in the name of “squeezing past,” but there’s really no place else to just get down. So here’s to Spill.