The Triumph Room
311 W 57th St
New York City
If you enjoy roid-ravaged Deep-V clad bodies, oiled hair, and BO, The Triumph Room is your Bridge and Tunnel connection. There’s no other place in NYC where you will find a mix of clubbers hailing from Turkey, Senegal, Babylon, and Secaucus (okay, maybe you can find their doppelgangers at Webster Hall).
There’s no point to shelling out money for Triumph. Go before 10pm to avoid the $15 cover charge. Sure, you’ll be standing in an empty venue for about an hour and half, which technically, if you considered the hours of your life priceless, then you’ve paid far more than $15, but don’t part with your Lincolns and Washingtons. Save it for the overpriced drinks from the aloof bartenders.
In the basement, you’ll find the techno/house music. This is where you’ll experience the BO. The dance floor fills up for a sweaty half hour, then quickly disperses…but the stench lingers. It’s like being trapped in an elevator in France/Germany/(insert EU country here) and then the doors finally burst open you escape gasping.
Head upstairs around midnight for hip-hop and Top 40. I discovered the main floor at 2am, well after I lost my sense of smell. I couldn’t get close to the middle of the dance floor, so I partook in fringe dancing. It’s fun dancing on the outskirts for a few minutes, but you end up gyrating against spectators ogling and the comedy in that can only last so long.
Important Note: if a Guido from LI walks through your dancing trio, do not, I repeat, DO NOT, smack his ass. Because that Guido will multiply like a wet gremlin and you’ll find yourself being molested by a mob of Gotti-kid look-alikes who bump and grind you like you don’t want to be. So as hard as it may be— refrain from smacking ass!