I suspected my Saturday evening was in for challenges when the last-minute sitter I was finally able to find took four hours to confirm that she could, in fact, sit.

She was a younger (read, non-driving) sitter, which meant single-mom me would have to bring her home after my evening at Club Sapphire was over, which also meant that I’d have to pack up the kid to take said sitter home.

Which meant, really, it’d have to be an early night.

As soon as I’d finished a lovely meal with friends, I headed to South Tacoma Way and 56th, to check out Club Sapphire.

Friends I talked to earlier in the day said they had been to the club the week before, and the set-up was cool (“but there were, like, six people there.”)

I tried to call one of those friends, after Culture Babe couldn’t make it (she was at the "Bodies" exhibition in Seattle, cuz she’s cultural like that.)

At that point I realized I had no cell phone, which threw me in a panicked tizzy. No. 1) how would I reach a friend to enlist her into coming out with me?  No. 2) How would I reach my sitter to tell her I was running late?  No. 3) How would my sitter reach me if anything went wrong?

No matter, I told myself, breathe.  Go in, check out the vibe, have a drink, head home.

I couldn’t find it, at first.

Dawson’s Bar & Grill appeared to be hopping, with a rash of revelers out front enjoying their smokes; but I didn’t see “Club Sapphire” til my third pass-through, when I noted the neon open sign and illuminated rainbow sign above the black-tinted windows that showed the name.  In the center of th store front, the bouncer sat in a booth that was part porn shop, part vintage theater box-office; doors were closed leaving no clue as to what was happening inside.

I found the closest place to park â€" a dark alley â€" and shored myself up to go into a totally unfamiliar place, alone.

As a rule, I don’t mind going out alone.  I like the freedom that affords me â€" the freedom to blot, or the freedom to hang around longer, and the freedom to talk to all and whomever.

But tonight, I was feeling nervous.  Something didn’t feel right.

As I got out of the car and bleeped my locks, I heard a sound; behind me I say three dudes with hoods down low on their foreheads.

I got back into my car and high-tailed it home to my tired, but not yet asleep daughter.

I trust Tacoma, I believe that people on the street are not out to get me.

And yet, I am also a realist.

I did not want to be tomorrow’s headline, “Single mother in a coma after mugging, leaving child in the care of a non-driving 17-year-old.”

That would have sucked.

Coming soon: dance night at Club Sapphire, girls gone wild hit South Tacoma Way.

I’m anxious to go to the club, just not alone. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler