To successfully crawl down from this precarious mental peak, you must immediately seek out a very dim room characterized by extremely worn surfaces. And there's no better low-gloss safe haven than Mac's Club Deuce, a place where even the neon melts into the shadows. Snag a stool and settle in for happy hour, beginning at 8 a.m. Then, after a few drinks, you've almost talked yourself off the far edge but not quite so stick around. The after-afterparty doesn't wrap for another 11 hours.
If all of those lost weekends in the superclubs have taught us anything, it's that the only responsible way to handle a three-day fiesta binge is to extend it indefinitely. However, at a certain point in the fun cycle probably around the 75th straight hour the human mind enters a strange state of hyperconsciousness that's not conducive whatsoever to sleek modern interiors. Just to illustrate: The overamped partier's brain will sometimes begin to skew boring right angles into Escher-like fourth dimensions! For sure, things are getting dangerous.