It’s like I’ve died and gone to lesbian heaven.
Ari and Billie entered The Pendulum, attired in skimpy outfits that left little to the imagination. Jitters fluttered within their chests as they peered from the upper level. The terrace offered a panoramic view of what appeared to be an ordinary club. It showcased a bar area with ample seating arrangements, tables, chairs, and a scattering of booths—a perfect spot to unwind over drinks and mingle with friends. It was a sight straight out of the seventies. There was a dance floor bathed in lights, a throwback to the era, complete with luminous floor panels that pulsated in sync with the rhythmic beats of the music.
“This looks like any sweaty nightclub in the city,” Ari said as she leaned over the balcony, casting a glance at the bodies bouncing in unison below.
Based on the photos online, she had expected an environment steeped in sex and had braced herself for a realm of carnal indulgence. However, the actuality she faced with the flashy clothing and the pulsing disco music felt like a voyage through the past. An experience surely similar to being at the legendary Studio 54 in New York.
As Ari absorbed the scene before her, her gaze captured the expanse of a lengthy mahogany bar stretching along one wall. “Let’s head downstairs and grab a drink.”
Billie offered a nonchalant shrug, trailing after Ari. They sailed down the staircase that coiled around the dance floor below, each step leading them deeper into the vibrant circus. As they reached the bottom, they weaved through the sea of women bumping into each other unintentionally, like they were on a bumper car ride to the bar. While trying to make their way through the crowd, they apologized repeatedly, more than they ever had before in their entire lives.
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