Reviewing Miami and then some. Gratuitous vulgarity included.

Buck 15

Buck 15 has such a ghetto-ass entrance I thought I needed to provide some kind of password to get in. Like the doorman would ask, “how much is a buck fifteen worth to the Loch Ness monster” and the answer is, “…about tree-fitty.”

I had been to Buck 15 once before and I remember being swarmed/surrounded by gays who immediately knew I wasn’t gay. How the fuck do they do that!? Look, those stereotypical catty gay dudes you see on TV shows exist, but they’re not the average gay. The average gay is imperceptible to a straight. Yet these dudes manage to hone in on some sort of aura. It’s not like I’m wearing an “I Love Pussy” t-shirt. Anyway, this was a while ago and they moved locations.

I had just gotten out of Arkadia to see a friend for a bit then go back. I took the break because I wanted to see the friend, and there’s also this girl I met once before. She’s the sweetest, most innocent girl I’ve ever met in my life, so I had to try and see if she would be interested in a piece of crap like myself.

It’s not like I’m wearing an “I Love Pussy” t-shirt.

When I arrived at the old location, I was confused. I looked it up on AroundMe on my phone, and it confirmed I was in the right place. Even their fucking web site had the old address. I asked strangers and they gave me the “huh?” face. At that point I’m starting to get pissed. Then one of the door guys (I think it was a door guy) from Score helped me out and told me the entrance was a red door on the opposite side of Lincoln near the New World Center. After making my way over there, that’s when I encountered the door and some guy who looked like Willy Chirino manning it. I go inside, pass the little hallway to enter the room, and enter. It turns out, “Buck 15” is slang for “about the size of a studio apartment in Chelsea.” This place is as big as the US budget surplus. I SAID SURPLUS. By my estimation, you can fit maybe 12 people in there before the fire marshal comes in and starts hitting everyone on their asses with his belt.

With that said, I can see the appeal. I saw zero douche bags, no stuck-up chicks, no bottle-popping madness, and no Haitian in a vest and bow tie in the restroom expecting $5 for putting soap in my hands. That alone puts it well above most of the places on the beach. But, it depends on what you want. Some people want the laid-back feel of Buck 15 where the lack of ventilation and tiny space ensures that if someone has meningitis everyone has meningitis, and others want to get date-raped at Dream.

I was there maybe 45 minutes tops, then the group I went for left and I ended up having a very fun-filled PG-13 rest of the night with the sweet girl. You might be thinking “dude, are you sure 45 minutes is enough time to judge a place?” I like to think I devoted one minute to every square foot. And also shut the fuck up.

Go to Buck 15 for no-nonsense dancing at no cover.

So where the hell is it?
  • 437 Lincoln Lane
  • Miami Beach, FL 33109
  • (305) 534-5488
  • Panera Bread on Urbanspoon
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