Despite its almost overt ties to the city's seedy underbelly, the Firefly Club maintains a squeaky image. The ground-floor interior is smallish, most of it just an empty dance floor, concrete painted gray so that the overhead lights can project images onto the ground. Minimal effort has been spent on the ambiance here: the lights are bright and typically pulsating, shifting colors to match the mood of the music that pumps out through speakers fitted to the walls and ceiling. There's a DJ booth in the center, flanked by bars on either side - though, on weeknights, only one of the two bars is actually staffed. A handful of tables skirt the edges of the dance floor, and a few stools line the bars.
The place has stern, no-nonsense bouncers; rowdy patrons are shown the door, and no one - NO ONE - gets in without ID. There's an additional bouncer whose sole purpose is to keep people from going into the back rooms without permission. And everything takes place beneath a long, one-way window that wraps around the second floor.