The best photo I could take of Vinny at Decades. (Photo by Rachel Kurzius)

11:41 p.m.: CABS ARE HERE! It’s Friday night (nearly Saturday morning), and I am headed to Dupont Circle club Decades because Vinny Guadagnino is hosting the evening’s festivities. Yes, Vinny of Jersey Shore fame—one half of the most vaunted bromance of our time, the character on the reality show who uses the least bronzer of the bunch, and the star of a spinoff show on the Food Network with his mom. Vinny, the Greek chorus of America’s most celebrated reality family, right here in D.C.!

11:46 p.m.: Earlier in the week I had jumped at this assignment, but now it is late and I’m sorely regretting my decision to go clubbing. I tell the driver how I’ve made a huge mistake and explain why I’m headed to Decades. He has not seen Jersey Shore. I guess we all make mistakes. He makes me promise to party for the both of us.

11:55 p.m.: I’ve made it! There’s a line out front that stretches about two storefronts long, but it seems to be moving pretty quickly. I see a lot of women in white jeans and a few sequined skirts, but really, there’s quite a bit of variety when it comes to fashion. One guy is sporting a full light blue suit. “Are you here to see Vinny?” I ask a group of guys out front in polos and t-shirts. “Oh yeah, Vinny’s here,” one of them replies, seemingly just remembering a fact that I could never forget. Another says, “That explains why there’s a line.” He adds that he normally walks right in when he comes here.

11:59 p.m.: “Are you here to see Vinny?” I ask another guy on the line. He ignores me, and types away on his phone. This is the last minute of free entry to the club (doors opened at 9 p.m.) before tickets begin to cost $50. Perhaps fans are feeling a dearth of Vinny—Jersey Shore: Family Vacation, the successful revival of the show, had its Season 1 finale in late June, and Season 2 doesn’t start until the end of August. There were special meet-and-greet tickets available before 10 p.m., which I did not learn about until later, much to my chagrin. I had gotten in touch with Decades to cover Vinny’s night there, and was assured I would be “on the list.” The perks of journalism!

12:09 a.m.: To the left of the door, there’s a gaggle of people who also seem to be “on the list.” Five women ahead of me with perfectly coiffed hair are about to get into the club without waiting on the line. They’re here celebrating a birthday, but are still excited about Vinny. “Who wouldn’t be?” one of them says before the velvet rope opens for them.

12:12 a.m.: I finally get the attention of the man letting people in through this side route. “I’m on the list,” I tell him. “There is no list,” he says, before instructing me to move out of the way because this area is for table service only. Uh oh.

12:16 a.m.: I find the man I’ve been corresponding with over email and the velvet rope opens for me! I’m stone cold sober, but this feeling is intoxicating. Vinny is on the roof, he says. Off I go.

12:17 a.m.: I turn right into a retro-looking bar called “Decades Rewind.” They’re playing Michael Jackson music videos. I order a drink and try to trek to the next floor in search of Vinny. Not happening: Security tells me that I can’t take my drink out of Rewind. A beginner’s mistake! I listen to “Rhythm of the Night” as I slurp down my whiskey ginger.

12:24 a.m.: I head up the narrow stairs to the next floor, where Rooney’s “I’m Shakin‘” is blaring from the speakers. There’s no way Vinny is on this floor. I follow the sounds of “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)” calling me from a floor above.

12:27 a.m.: Seeing stairs beckoning me up another flight, I know this cannot possibly be the roof. Up I go. This floor is playing Top 40’s hip hop—”Bad and Boujee” when I arrive. It’s the most crowded dance floor yet. I finally see someone who looks like he could be on Jersey Shore: he’s sporting a popped pink polo and a bronzed tan. But I don’t see Vinny.

12:31 a.m.: I ask the bartender where Vinny is. “Probably on the roof,” she says. It’s news to me that I am not already on the roof. Up I go!

12:34 a.m.: Actually, I’m not quite roof-bound yet. The swarm of people who I thought were dancing are actually waiting on another line to get to the roof. Have I at last found my fellow Vinny fans? Nope. A guy explains that techno music plays on the roof, plus folks can smoke cigarettes and hookah up there. It’s also where all the table service happens.

12:41 a.m.: I ask the dude behind me on line if he’s going upstairs to see Vinny. Technically, I ask him four times before he can hear what I’m saying. “Who’s Vinny?” he responds.

12:45 a.m.: People are not letting the fact that they’re on a line get in the way of their evening. There’s basically a human centipede of grinding to my left, and they’re bouncing a lot.

12:49 a.m.: The human centipede has split into pairs.

12:51 a.m.: Blessed roof! It smells like hookah as I bound up the stairs. The roof has ivy and a series of platforms. Oh my goodness, I can see Vinny in a white t-shirt. He’s on a platform with few guys and gals that’s decorated with white lattice, and they’re flanked on every corner by hulking security, who are preventing anyone from entering Vinny’s space. Three women are gathered by the foot of the platform. They have been fans of Jersey Shore since high school, they tell me, and they say they’re on line for photos. Finally, my people. Two of them like Vinny best. The third is a Pauly D fan (Disclosure: I too am a Pauly D fan). She met Pauly D at Decades when he visited in early June, and she shows me a photo. Pauly D is shorter in real life than she had expected, she says, but she was “totally fangirling” around him. I later learn that Ronnie came to Decades in May, but I am delighted to have missed that. Watching Jersey Shore has never quite given me a hankering for his company, even if Ron Ron Juice was offered as a drink special.

12:59 a.m.: These security guys are pretty serious about their jobs. Vinny is up there, mere feet away, and they’re making it hard to see exactly what he looks like as he chats with the handful of lucky folks on the platform. Here’s a guy whose job is to have his every moment filmed, and yet, when I try to move to take a surreptitious photo of Vinny, the tallest guard shines a flashlight in my face. I’m generally all about giving famous people their privacy, but I feel no compunction for my curiosity, considering Vinny is being paid to attend this club to draw in clientele. I manage to sneak a few blurry photos.

1:03 a.m.: As a techno remix of “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” plays, I am beginning to think that I am not standing in a line for a photo with Vinny.

1:09 a.m.: The security surrounding Vinny is eagle-eyed, and they keep shining flashlights in people’s faces. I decide to get a drink.

1:19 a.m.: I return to the foot of Vinny’s platform. He’s still hobknobbing. Is he enjoying himself? I wish I could ask him! There are no updates from the Jersey Shore fans I had been chatting with, other than that they’ve downgraded their status from “waiting on line for a photo” to “hanging out.”

1:22 a.m.: Some guy tries to take a photo of Vinny and the security guy threatens to throw him out if he tries it again.

1:24 a.m.: I ask the security guy if I could just get one photo with Vinny, for the love of all that is holy. “Not anymore,” he says. “Maybe later, but not now.” This is when I learn about the earlier meet and greet, and rue my existence.

1:26 a.m.: Vinny, flanked by security wielding glowing lights, heads off the platform. Is he being escorted to the bathroom?

1:35 a.m.: A guy asks where Vinny is. I tell him he disappeared and ask why he wants to see him. “He’s my brother,” he says. “No, I’m his son.” I don’t think this dude is very credible.

1:44 a.m.: People on the roof are dancing and kissing each other’s necks. Where is Vinny?

1:47 a.m.: I see a door from which people keep emerging. Is this where Vinny is? I ask someone who just walked out and his response, to my dropped heart: “Who is Vinny?” This is where employees are heating up the hookah coals.

2:01 a.m.: It’s time to call it before I start, in the immortal words of Jersey Shore, “spiraling.” I hail a cab.

I later learn that Friday was National New Jersey Day, which, according to National Day Calendar, is all about “recognizing this unique and captivating state.”