What’s the strongest memory of your latest transatlantic flight? Double or nothing says it’s the curve of that sweet stewardess’ hips and not those drinks you downed to take the edge off. Pray tell: what stopped you from making those fantasies a reality? What force could have stopped a person so young, so vital? Oh yes, that’s right. Common decency.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Da Tong Mill, where common decency is usually found hanging somewhere by the door next to your best friend’s Zegna jacket. The only, and I mean only, way to complete a neighborhood like this is to top it with man’s greatest phallic symbol, then light the joint up with the most libertine color in the spectrum.
D10 Ultra Lounge has landed, and this airplane of a club is more than a little aware of its provenance. Coats in the overhead compartment, DJ in the cockpit—just when you begin wonder if it’s too novel to be convincing, you realize you’re playing 100% into the fantasy. And with such friendly, fastidious service from uniformed boys in crisp hats and dolls in short shifts, be prepared to indulge (and I mean indulge a few extra bills, because some of the electric bill is in that drink).
Hip hop beats and decent booze keep the conversation wet, while the purple glow—despite its striking resemblance to a Virgin America flight—keep things hypnotic. The buzz is hot and cool down this shaft, and oh what a length of shaft it is.
Wait—that there? Could it really be that sweet thing from your last flight? Just make sure it’s not the purple haze talking.