I bring a date to Vanity nightclub. I know, I know. Bringing a date kind of defeats the purpose of reporting on the hookup scene, right? But I've seen enough of these clubs alone. Every once in a while, papa's got to get some sugar.

Plus, I tell her it's my job to scrutinize the club and its patrons. A free pass for my eyes to wander. The best of both worlds.

I had heard clubs around 56th Street and South Tacoma Way could be rough and tumble, but Vanity doesn't fit this description. It's actually quite classy. My plaid shirt and Vans are no match for the leather boots and silk shirts that crowd the club. My unkempt hair stands out as bizarre against the manicured heads. And these two guys in three-piece suits really put my faded khakis to shame. Luckily, my date is dressed up enough for the both of us. I was a little nervous when she showed up in high heels (what is this, the Oscars?), but her skirt and blouse fit in perfectly with the other girls' Saturday night style. I even catch a couple guys eyeing her.

Accordingly, I puff out my chest. That's right, dudes. She's with this guy.

We grab some beers at the bar and find a seat near the dance floor. I take time to admire Vanity's brick walls, high ceilings and dark furniture. I also admire the tight skirts and long legs I see near the bar. Admire, but don't leer. Dates don't usually like when you leer at somebody else's legs.

Around 11 p.m. a live band sets up on a small stage. The DJ steps aside and the mambo takes over. Guys who know how to dance grab ladies of their choosing.

I look at my date. She's smiles nervously, intimidated by the skilled dancers on the floor. I hold out my hand anyway. We head out to the floor and I do my best two-step, pressing tight against her. It's not every night you get to mambo with a pretty lady.

Especially at some of the meat markets I've seen.  

Club Vanity

Open until 2 a.m., $5-$10 cover
5602 S. Washington St., Tacoma
253.314.5972