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An 18-and-up dance club doesn’t sound promising to anyone.

Although I tried to go with an open and objective mind, I soon discovered that all my preconceived notions couldn’t be closer to the truth.

My first beef with The Palace is its insistence on making you pay way too much for parking. Even though the club is situated by ample parking (four lots), each lot charges the extortionate price of $10.

Handing over my car keys to a shady valet, I soon had the pleasure of standing in an intolerable line. But I have to commend The Palace for at least keeping the line moving, and even though my journey was just beginning, I knew I was in for what would be a humorous evening. If a girl vomiting at the entrance isn’t a surefire sign of a good time, I don’t know what is.

The Palace is essentially comprised of two dance floors, a patio, lounging areas and two full bars.

The lower dance floor is quite large in size and very well ventilated, while the upper dance floor is about the size of a one-bedroom apartment in Westwood (minus ventilation of any sort). I would equate this room to a sauna, but with the smell of alcohol and body odor to boot.

The patio boasts a thick stench of smoke. While it is definitely the coolest place in the entire building, the people congregating there take smoking to the next level. I, unfortunately, had to excuse myself after a near asthmatic coughing fit.

The bathrooms, always of much importance to the ladies, were well equipped and very clean and had virtually no line (trying to make up for lost points, I suppose).

The radio station 102.7 KIIS FM that puts on Klub KIIS, spun hip-hop and R&B from 10 p.m. to midnight in the large dance arena. They played the latest hits as well as classic favorites while throwing shirts and prizes to the crowd.

KIIS also put on a “hot-bod contest” which is a chance for the ladies to win $100 for strutting their stuff.

From midnight until closing (supposedly 2 a.m., but I left at 2:30 a.m. and the party was still raging), the large room spins techno while the small room attempts to take on the hip-hop crowd.

Mustering enough courage to battle the stench, crowd and beer-laden floor, I took on the mission of dancing just to see how the men conducted themselves.

After having my ass grabbed on five separate occasions, as well as experiencing a choke hold applied to the ribs that lasted for three consecutive songs, my conclusion is just as I had imagined; the guys that frequent The Palace are forward, extremely out of line and don’t take no for an answer. I normally have no problem dancing with all sorts of guys, but I actually had to say no to some because I feared being violated.

Overall, The Palace is nothing more than a mediocre club for those desperately wanting to be 21 years old. The age discrepancy is amazing; everyone looks either not nearly eighteen or just about thirty. The music is about the only good thing The Palace has to offer, but that’s not even enough to make it worth your while.

Leaving the Palace drenched in sweat, reeking of smoke and $25 in the hole did make me somewhat happy though. It meant that I could finally go home.