Cuckoo Club, the long-running event on Sunday nights at Maritime Hotel's Hiro Ballroom, is still the packed-to-the-gay-rafters destination for multiculti guys who want to dance (to DJ Honey Dijon), sweat, and hook up to sweat some more. But if you're more of an ogler than a dancer, the best spot to hang there isn't in one of the VIP banquettes, where it's too dark to see and too loud to talk, or on the dance floor, where you get bumped into and stepped on as if you were chattel—and not always by the right people. Instead, sit and gape at all kinds of people coming and going—some wiping their noses, others zipping up their crotches—and all worth looking at, from the vestibule en route to the main-floor bathroom. Occasionally, you might even catch someone famous (or formerly famous), and, by 1 a.m., this becomes the go-to place for people-watching and people-meeting—especially if you're 31, look good in bright lights, and have Monday off.