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Club Review April 20, 2007
Coo Coo For Cocos
By Hannah Katz Browse author

Dear readers: In the last column I told you that I gave Mike the boot. I didn't give him an explanation. I just said it was over and the decision was final. But he didn't listen. He kept blowing up my phone, but I never picked up. I just treated him like background noise and didn't even notice his groveling SMSes and voice messages. I can do that kind of stuff. I have a great mental filter for annoying people.

But little did I know that my break up would not only lead to a club review, but also to a deeper and more meaningful relationship with Mike. Don't believe me? You know I wouldn't lie about something like this. Or would I?

After about three weeks of what I like to call the Katz Total Ignore, I pretended to cave. My birthday is a few months away, but Mike was so eager that he decided to throw me a pre-birthday party. He went all out, buying about 30 different presents, one for every person that RSVP'd. He even sent out limos for all the girlfriends I invited. Yup, he just got a promotion. A big one.

The party was gonna take place in a little-known cafe slash lounge called COCOS. And the cocos don't stand for coconuts. Uh-uh. In case you don't know your Russian slang, Cocos is pronounced ko-kos. It stands for coke. It's hard to come by in Moscow, but Mike promised an abundance. And he kept his word.

I had been to this place before and dug the over-the-top decadent vibe. I even have their VIP card. And it's unlike any other out there. It has this really nifty groove on the side for making two perfect white corn-rows. When these guys opened up the doors last September, their ad campaign posted on banners strung up all over the city had slogs like "girls love coke" and "coke on the cheap." Moscow's ministry of culture didn't like that one bit and forced Cocos to take their ads down. But Cocos appealed the decision and won!

It's actually a pretty cool 3-level club: resturant, club, VIP lounges. It's on Petrovka and caters to the serious party people crowd. You can call it a pre-party attack base. People meet, start getting their drink on and then head out for the night. Sometimes they hit the dance floor first or come back later for the 24-hour restaurant. The food's tasty and it's the only place in town you can get a Bolivian liqueur made from real coca leaves. That's right, the stuff that cocaine is made from. Last time I was there, I had way too much of it and practically had a heart attack. But the upside was that for an alcohol beverage, it had a strange sobering effect. I few shots of that stuff and you don't even feel the booze. Go figure!

This place is made for debauchery, from the bathroom stall with a darkened glass wall that looks out onto the dancefloor to the bedded VIP rooms upstairs on the third floor. And yeah, there's a lock on the door.

Mike wanted to pick me up, but I made him send a limo for me and my two indie girls Lela and Nastia. I had my own surprise for him. I wanted to get him jealous to the point of murder and then lock myself in the VIP room with him. The plan worked like a charm. After doing a bunch of body shots off Nastia and some lines off Lela's inner thighs, I kicked them out and called for Mike.

We had a bit of trouble with the equipment early on, but after a bit of manipulation, we got it to work just fine. So fine that we didn't care about the party and didn't leave the place until the early morn. I thank kokos and Cocos for that.

Address: Petrovka 34

Metro: Chekhovskaya

Telephone: 609-0193, 609-0210

Open 24 hours

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Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
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eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
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Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
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Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...


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