Patrons mingle in the House of Blues Foundation Room high atop Mandalay Bay on a recent Monday night. Photos by Jane Kalinowsky. A group from Miami enjoys cocktails while listening to mixed music in the lounge of the House of Blues Foundation Room. A group from Boston mingles, while enjoying cocktails in the Ganesh Room, a private room in the Foundation Room at Mandalay Bay. Patrons chat while listening to '80s music in one of the plush rooms inside the Foundation Room.

The lumpy dude in the fuzzy wuzzy blue-and-purple hat said it all without saying a word. His mere presence in the House of Blues Foundation Room spoke as loudly as his garish headgear, which looked as if it was fashioned from the hide of a punk rock muskrat.

Suffice it to say, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would plunk down $2,250 a year

for the privilege of sipping pricey cocktails beneath exotic paintings of a surrealist turkey and a black Jesus, which are among the many pieces of brightly colored folk art that adorn the Foundation Room's red upholstered walls.

But it was Monday night, the one evening of the week when this exclusive, members-only club high atop Mandalay Bay opens its doors to all.

Of course, you still have to dress to impress -- gaudy hats excepted, apparently -- lest you want to be forced to loiter in the crowded lobby on the ground floor of the hotel, waiting your turn as the beautiful people skip by.

Once inside the club, you can't help but feel like a high roller -- even if your pockets are no deeper than your navel. The place is festooned with gold-leaf ceilings, rich Indian fabrics, crackling fireplaces, ornate wood carvings of religious iconography and a patio that offers one of the best views of the Strip.

On Mondays, an evening dubbed "Godspeed," the music is as varied as the decor.

The club's dining room is converted into an '80s-leaning discotheque, where INXS and Rod Stewart rule.

Beneath shimmering Italian chandeliers, revelers hoist drinks on a dance floor made of fine Oriental rugs. Thick blue-and-maroon drapes hang from big floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto the club's patio, 50 stories above the Strip.

In the Foundation Room lounge, house and trance is spun as a myriad of television monitors display nature footage of rock formations and desert skies. Think "Wild Kingdom" with beer.

Down a long hall decorated with black-and-white portraits of blues greats such as Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown and Henry Qualls, lies the Shangri-La Room, where hip-hop predominates.

The room is decorated with rich dark woods and ornate iron fixtures, giving the place the feel of an Old World cathedral -- an Old World cathedral where Young Jeezy sermonizes.

A small dance floor is roped off from a series of couches, where bottle service is offered, beginning at $275.

For the most part, you have to pay if you want to sit anywhere in this place.

On a recent Monday, the crowd was a mix of big money and small dresses. There were well-monied Foundation Room regulars, older gents in expensive sport coats who can afford a $1,500 bottle of fine Chateau Haut Brion wine, which tops the club's drink menu.

They pushed through the crowded throng of partyers, elbow to elbow with young blondes in jeans and half-shirts, dancing with their hands in the air, their eyeshadow as thick as the scent of incense that hung in the air.

The place gets packed, but with bars in each of the three main rooms, the lines for drinks are surprisingly manageable.

Plus, the traffic is somewhat dispersed by a series of private alcoves hidden in various nooks and crannies of the club behind drapes, such as the Ganesh Room and the Buddha Room, named after the religious figures whose likenesses dominate their decor.

These comfy hide-outs will still be off limits to most folks who show up on Mondays, but for a night, everyone can at least get a glimpse of the high life -- even if your finances are dwarfed by a big goofy hat.