Real life, real fun at the club

For someone who makes her living critiquing nightclubs, Jessica Gelt sure is dubious of the genre [“Beyond the Velvet Rope,” May 3]. What was she expecting, transcendental meditation?

A dozen friends and I spent last Saturday night at the Edison and had a ball -- in Payless sneakers, no less. Clearly I wasn’t the “man in high-gloss loafers and a dark-blue collared shirt unbuttoned just shy of mid-nipple range” whom Gelt felt justified in demeaning.

This from the woman who self-righteously informed us that the club is “just several hundred yards down an alley from where two homeless men lounged on a tattered couch.” One wonders if Gelt conversed with the homeless as she paced off each yard.

It’s a nightclub, Jessica! A place where people relax and have a good time. And like most such settings, you get out of it what you put into it. You’re the one being pretentious. If you go looking for smarmy, you’ll see smarmy. Never mind the fact that “seeing smarmy” is about as smarmy as you can get.

In contrast, the Edison, for all of its earthy exterior, indeed because of its earthy exterior, doesn’t hide from what’s real. It celebrates it. Thank God it’s a few hundred yards from two homeless men. It gave me the opportunity to stop and visit and share $20 (the money I saved at Payless).

And all this before stepping inside what is arguably the most beautiful and vibrant nightspot in Southern California. I “relaxed and had a good time” because that’s what I went looking for. Did you, Jessica?

TERRY BREWER

Los Angeles