the last time i was at triple door, it was to see dita von teese sponge off in a huge martini glass (worth every penny). this time, an acquaintance’s birthday brought us back to the musiquarium lounge out front – a fusion of bar, wild ginger apps, and live music. upon entering, a horridly loud muzak band was playing, like nails on a chalkboard. near the entryway, a hooker straddled a businessman on the front couch. the rest of the bar crowd seemed old and uninteresting. to dull the pain, i ordered a fernet and coke, but the strong pour just seemed to make everything more intense. as though things couldn’t get worse, one of the party patrons was a creepy older man who felt entitled to taste everyone’s drink, gloat about his army background, and grope at a poor girl’s shirt while attempting to uncover her tattoo. it was an evening of epic fail proportions.