Rumjungle just might be the most honest club on the Strip. There's rum - lots and lots of rum - and there's a jungle theme. So simple, yet so effective in creating the perfect environment to let your inner Tarzan or Jane take hold for a little while.
The first indication that the evening is going to be a little on the wild side comes, literally, as soon as you exit your car. On the right night, the music from the club reaches as far as up as the fourth floor of the parking deck. Consider it a beacon, guiding partygoers in for a landing.
It's a Vegas club and not an actual jungle, of course, so there's going to be at least a little line to get in. The thing that sets rumjungle's line apart is that it's in front of wall of water that's sort of on fire. It's hard to explain and discussing the mechanics of it with friends or strangers in line makes any wait time more of an educational experience in make-believe physics.
Once through the entry way, the night takes a quick turn into a nightlife safari, but instead of trying to decide whether to look at the lions, tigers or lush foliage, you've got to decide whether to look at the percussionists, the bar, or the, um, lush foliage. Above the tables and bars, dancers shimmy, shake and gyrate in contraptions that look almost like birdcages, only they're sexy birdcages and sexy birds.
The percussionists, stationed atop two giant conga drums, keep the beat much closer to home as a DJ spins a mix of different tunes, depending on the night. Check the club's special events listing for a better idea of what you'll be hearing.
TVs and screens throughout the club flash a mix of the live dancers and other footage and on Fridays, remixed videos that match up with the music are also projected.
There's a lot of color, from the giraffe-print floor, to the snake-skin booths, even the bar top is colorful, changing like a finicky mood ring every few seconds.
But, let's be honest, it's the rum that brings most folks in. Displayed on shelves that tower high above the bar, the selection is so massive that if you're not careful, a loincloth might sound like the best idea you've ever had.