518 East 34th Street
Lubbock, TX 79404
Lubbock County
Phone: (806) 762-5044
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
Boss Office Bar - About Us
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by Maricha F. on I'm slightly surprised at all the bad reviews here, because my first time there was last Saturday and I did not experience any of these horrible things... I went with two other girls and a guy. We were well-dressed, but only moderately so, no big deal. The bouncer was actually nice and made a joke about my ID (from AZ) before letting us all in. Some sort of host guy asked if we wanted a table and I said no thanks, so he said that's fine, have a good night, there's the coat check if you want it. We got drinks (the bar was crowded but the bartender noticed us waiting and took our order right away), stood around for a bit before deciding we wanted to check our coats. About the decor...yes it is beach themed, I was told this place was originally a beach-side club and has other locations in famous beach cities, Miami included, but I don't see why that's a problem. Yea, it's kind of cheesy I guess, but it looked alright. There was a big long table in the middle and some girl started dancing by herself on it, which all the boys stared at and all the girls kind of smirked or shrugged their shoulders at, and about a half hour later a bunch of people all got up on the table to dance, me and my friends included. We had two more rounds of drinks, which are of course overpriced, but so are they all in Manhattan. They weren't bad, anyway. Good and strong. The music was good, house and housey remixes of pop songs and stuff. There were a couple guys who harassed us about checking our coats, but it was fine because we were planning on doing it anyway. There was kind of a weird mix of people, but I was kind of absorbed in my group, so I didn't really notice except for a couple too-old-to-be-here guys and a dude with a mullet (after going to clubs in Europe this doesn't phase me anymore). I don't know, maybe it was my lucky night? The general consensus of the people I was with was that it was fine, not super awesome but not terrible either, an we'd be willing to go back. If I go there again and have a bad experience, I'll be sure to update.
by Ying L. on Ah, so I hate Greenhouse on the weekends. But there we did go tonight. I'm not sure whose birthday it was, but it was someone's and he had a table and we danced around it and sipped drinks from it. ANYWAY. At some point I accidentally wandered off into the downstairs area by myself. Realizing my mistake, I started to go back upstairs. I had been aiming for the fenced in area outside, where you could get some fresh air without actually leaving the club. (Aside: I concede that nightclubs are inane.) As I made my u-turn, I heard a voice behind me say, "Where are you going?" I turned around. It was a guy. I looked at him blankly. "I saw you upstairs. I was wondering when you'd come downstairs. But why are you leaving so soon?" I shrugged, running my hand through my hair. "I'm going outside." "Can I join you?" I shrugged again and went outside. He joined me. "I saw you upstairs, by the entrance. You were with some friends?" What was this, a memory test? "You were very cute in there." "Uh-huh." "I guess you hear that a lot." "I hear it enough to not believe it." He shot me a look of pity. "Why don't you believe it?" I put my hand to my chest for emphasis and said, "What I meant by that was, I know who I am, I have an idea of what I look like. And it's not influenced by what guys tell me. That's what I meant." "Do you have a boyfriend?" he non-sequitored. "No." "So why don't you believe it when guys say that?" "Ok, maybe it's not that I think guys are lying. It's just that they say it to everybody." I paused, and decided to be real for a second. "Look, I follow the male gaze, and it's different from mine. It's... less discriminating." I shrugged, waiting to see if he would pick up on "male gaze" and go off script. He didn't. "So how does a guy like me, a [mumble mumble] film-maker get you to agree to get a coffee with me?" I looked into the distance where people were milling around the bouncers begging to get in, and chuckled as if coffee was the quaintest thing I'd ever heard of. "Okay, maybe not coffee. But a drink, of some kind." I stared back blankly. "Or dinner. Or... a show." "I don't need to be treated," I said with a sigh. It took a few seconds for that to register. "You... okay, you don't need to be treated. How old are you? 22?" I smiled at the ground 2 feet in front of me, ran my hand through my hair. "I'm in my 20s," I said softly. "You just turned 22?" "Sure. Yeah." He nodded wisely. "So how do I get you to go out with me? What can I do?" I turned back to him from waving at my friends, who were escaping the harassment of some genuinely creepy dudes. "You can't. I don't want a relationship." "But it's just..." "And what's the point of going on a date if I don't want to be in a relationship?" He took a big breath. "Because maybe I can show you something new, a new drink, something. And you won't know unless you take a chance and come out with me. You have to be open to new things!" I chuckled. "You know, there is such a thing as being too open, right?" See, I really did give him another chance to communicate with me. But again he did not accept. "You think I'm too open? No... I don't think I'm too open. I'm just... open, you know? And that's good." I rolled my eyes and went back into the club with my friends.
by Janine Gyllenband on I went with a group of friends and they wouldn't let in one of our hispanic friends bc of his "tennis shoes". He was dressed exactly like everyone else except for the shoes. After some arguing they let him in. I then decided to walk around and count how many white people had tennis shoes on in the bar... lets just say I lost count.
