Things I Will Never Understand

Not that I understand clubs to begin with. Not that I'd probably ever be caught at an event that offered mango caipirinhas and capoeira dancers (but that does sound cool) ... oh wait, except for that super-wack Red Bull party I went to at the Seaport Museum in Philly last year. But never mind that.

But club-like parties -- with oxygen bars -- to sell condos?! Something is totally wack in the state of Miami.

The theme was "A Day in the Life of Aqua [the condo complex]." Dancers in fringed shorts coaxed some guests to salsa to a 10-piece band while other guests hovered around giant pans of paella and ropa vieja. A lounge singer belted out "Respect" in a model living room while chefs whipped up crepes in the model kitchen. Near a newly planted mango grove, guests drank mango caipirinhas and gazed at the Intracoastal Waterway.

Ooh ... I could go for that "whipping up crepes in the model kitchen" part. Heh.

Seriously, though. To so blatantly play on people's need for image, social acceptance, and conformity ("Live with us, the parties say, and ooze wealth, sex, fitness and mystery") is just kind of amazing. Then again, I'm amazed whenever I happen to see a TV ad, and slinky women selling ice cream just by licking a spoon seem to have an effect, too.

Okay, so I'm out of touch with the mainstream. I'm still shocked this kind of shit works.