I WILL NEVER GO TO THIS CLUB AGAIN. The management is disgustingly indifferent when situations arise. Women (and possibly men) beware.

My girlfriend got drugged there on Friday night, August 14, 2009. I've partied with this friend many times over three years--until 1 am, until 10 pm, until dawn and beyond. NOT ONCE has she ever had to be carried out (much less helped out) of a club due to overindulging in alcohol.

The last thing she said to me at our Dady O booth as her eyes got heavier and heavier was, "I think I've been drugged". After that, boom, she passed out. There was no getting her up. An employee passed by our table and asked, matter-of-factly if we needed help getting her out of the club. I screamed, "NO, MY GIRLFRIEND GOT DRUGGED IN YOUR CLUB". He left and didn't come back. I then started crying because I wasn't going to rob my friend of her dignity by carrying her out of Dady O's in front of everyone while watching them snicker thinking she was drunk. As mentioned, my friend isn't the type of person who needs to be carried out of a club.

About a half hour later, another employee approached our table and told us we needed to leave. I said, "can we have 15 minutes?" He said, "no". Incredulously I said, "my girlfriend got drugged in YOUR club and you won't give us 15 more minutes? He said, "no" and left.

I got up from the booth, walked over to an elevated bar area, and asked the bartenders if I could see a manager. They told me the manager was home sleeping. I said, "no, the manager is not sleeping". When they realized that their answer wasn't sufficient for the situation, they all pointed to a languid guy leaning up against a wall and said, "he's the manager". I started toward the man with a baffled look on his face, turned back, and saw the all the bartenders holding back laughter. Enraged, I said, "that is not the manager, you (expletive)". I went back to the booth and didn't budge.

Another employee came over a couple minutes later and told me he'd show me to the manager's office. I followed him down a back hallway that led to backdoors that led to a back alley. Two men were there. One of the men said, "the manager is out these doors to the right" (meaning ‘as soon as you clear the club, we'll close the doors behind you’) which would’ve left my girlfriend and my husband alone in the club and me in a back alley. I screamed, "that is not the way to your manager's office." I looked at all three men, one at a time, gave them a hand gesture and said, (expletive) you. (expletive) you, and (expletive) you.” I returned to the booth and wouldn't budge.

Once again, another employee came over to the booth and told me he'd show me to the manager's office. For the third time, I followed him down the same back hallway that led to the backdoors that led to a back alley. He pointed at a green door right before the backdoors that led to the back alley. The employee said, "the manager’s in there."I pounded on the green door. No answer. I then turned to a guy who was sitting near the green door and asked him what the manager's name is. No response. In fact, no one was talking, period. Politics prevailed. I stormed back to the booth and didn't budge.

Within the next couple of minutes, my girlfriend, whose head had landed on my husband's leg right after she passed out from being drugged, awoke. She was in a panic and totally freaked out. She said she couldn't feel the rest of her body. She was asking what happened to her. She wanted to go to the hospital. While my husband emotionally comforted her, I started rubbing her extremities to see if she had any feeling in them at all. We, too, were incredibly scared and in shock (not to mention gravely saddened) at that point.

Finally she was able to feel some of her limbs. My husband and I were able to bear most of her weight and walk her out down that same back hallway that led to the backdoors that led to a back alley. We spent another 15 minutes on the curb comforting her and making sure that feeling in her extremities was coming back stronger and not weaker or remaining the same.

A few days later I talked to another friend who visits Cancun often. She will never go back to Dady O either, citing the same indifferent management practices as I’m citing now. Apparently she got drugged as well, her purse was cleaned of its contents, and management couldn't have cared less.

Can Dady O's prevent by lowlife predators with extremely bad intentions from entering their club? Absolutely not. ALL I ASKED FOR WAS 15 MINUTES FROM DADY O'S so that a drugged woman wouldn’t have to be robbed of her dignity. What all of us got was the old bait and switch, belittled, mocked, run out of dodge, and ignored.

Yes, it's quite a club. Too bad I can't say the same about their management team.