Rolled In Rich and Strolled Out Broke

Stepping into Devil’s Triangle at Westlake Ave, around 10 PM, I was greeted by the familiar dark, sultry ambiance that makes this club stand out.

The $30 cover fee stung a bit for a no-alcohol venue, but the promise of a unique, intimate experience kept my spirits high. You descend a staircase into a small, dimly lit space that feels like a hidden underworld… cozy, with a goth edge that sets it apart from glitzier clubs. The bouncer was chill, collecting payment with a nod.

Upon entering, a couple of dancers approached, asking if I wanted dances and after chatting with a few they politely asked for tips. They were friendly, not pushy, but I wanted to scope out the scene first. I grabbed a soda (included with the cover) and settled at a table near the stage. The club wasn’t packed, with maybe 8-12 girls working that night (hard to count), each bringing their own vibe—some alt, some classic bombshell. The stage performances were fully nude, as advertised, and the music was a solid mix, keeping the energy up.