Andalu
Where: 1214 18th St., NW
Dress: Stick to the dress code. No jeans or sneakers
Cover: 10 bucks
Carded: At the door
Belle Rating: 4 bells

Remember going to Five when you were a freshman? The line was all the way down the block. Your tube top was not the best call, given the 30 degree weather you were waiting in. But you were stupid drunk and didn’t care.

Four years later, you’re sitting in Froggy in dirty sweatpants and a GW sweatshirt, drunk before happy hour even starts. You’re wondering what the hell happened to you.

I know the feeling, but I wasn’t about to let it go down like that. Two months left in D.C. and, God help me, I refuse to spend them passed out at Lindy’s before “SNL” comes on. I dug out my black pants, threw on some extra lip gloss and headed to Andalu.

Dress to impress, kids. If they do let you in with jeans and sneaks (and that will only happen if you know somebody, and you probably don’t) you’ll be out of place. This particular Thursday happened to be model search night. So designer-clad hotties were lurking everywhere. The chicks were pissed. The guys were hard. I hid behind my Chanels.

If you do start a tab, remember you have to spend at least $20; not a problem considering it’s five bucks for an import and way more for mixed drinks.

When in the bathroom, squat, wipe and get out. Don’t dilly dally. Its not uncommon for more than three people to pile out of a stall at Andalu.

The biggest excitement of the night? The rumor floating around that MC Hammer was in the curtained VIP area at the back of the room. With all the models floating around, I “couldn’t touch this,” but it seemed possible. After all, Quentin Tarantino has a VIP card.