New York City is known, globally, as the city that never sleeps. With over 8.3 million residents, many with poor sleeping habits (*raises hand*), New York, at any given time of day or night feels active. Most people tend to wait until the weekend, Friday or Saturday night, to party. That’s the time that they can find a sitter for their children, or can sleep in late after a night of
binge drinking, or can simply muster the energy required to go out with friends after a long work week. But, remember, the city never sleeps.
Here are some thoughts and observations that I made while I was out the other weeknight:
- After noticing gorgeous dresses and fierce heels at this after-work event, I wonder where these women work and if they’re hiring.
- Dominican women have natural twitter and instagram names. “Oh, that’s a cool instagram name. What does it mean?…Oh, that’s your real name.”
- Most events mirror middle dances with the men and women on opposite sides of the room (Editor’s note:Thought we would have outgrown this by now, but we haven’t). Men and women make these sexually homogenous protective circles, which makes interaction between the sexes difficult. The only safe spot away from these physically intimidating friend circles is the bar. Thus, the best place to hang out, if one is looking to mingle and meet new people, requires one to drink. Thanks, socially awkward patterns said alcoholism.
- Some doormen at these pseudo-exclusive parties take their job way too serious, being extra nasty and elitist with potential patrons, especially guys who make the mistake of travelling without a female. One can avoid these particularly rude doormen by dropping a name at the door. For example, a male friend and I got to a hotel party and were initially denied access (mistake: no females with us, and the person we were supposed to meet had not arrived yet). However, we said we were with the DJ (though we weren’t) and just like that we were on the way to the penthouse venue. Takeaway: know the DJ or at least his/her name (Editor’s note: this exact scenario happened again, later that night/morning, except we actually knew one of the club promoters and his name alone saved me from paying the $30 entrance fee).
- Invisible markers/stamps are the new wave in identifying whether someone has been inside the party. Sharpie markings on the hand and those annoyingly hard to break wristbands are counting their last days. Also, one doesn’t have to scrub away the mark the next day before one goes to work unless one’s job has ultraviolet lights present. Score!
- While partying for eight to nine hours and sending hella texts, one’s phone will definitely inch closer to the automatic shut down. Watching your battery percentage fall below seven percent when you plan to be out longer is easily one of the scariest moments to any partier. However, there are these new charging stations, only for iphones (sorry everyone else), that are so clutch.
- One never knows who one will meet while partying into the wee hours on a weekday. Example: forty year old woman, who looks like she’s in her late twenties, early thirties, until a random beam of light hits her face and one can see the emerging deep wrinkles that her concealer cannot hide, who is a former DJ and is unsatisfied with the current state of hip hop/rap, who randomly recites obscure Too Short lyrics, and who definitely partakes in nose candy, which explained her neurotic and odd energy. Yep, she really exists, and apparently likes to party on the weekdays.
- Professional athletes look so bored in the club. True, it seems glamorous, with added help from the scantly clad bottle service waitress and those sparklers that illuminate the club for just enough time so that everyone can turn their heads and see who ordered a 300% marked up bottle of [insert name of liquor], as they order bottles on bottles for their large and inflated crew, but they look so tired of the experience, which happens in every city they play. Oh, and their bodyguards are HUGE.
- Notable stars and athletes seen while out from 7pm-3am include: Brandy (she waved and smiled at me…or the person next to me…whatever, don’t kill my vibe), Tayshaun Prince, Austin Daye, and Zach Randolph (all whom had terrible games the following night against the Knicks), Edgerrin James and at least two other football players that the DJ shouted out but I didn’t bother to remember.
- Lastly, this song is the hottest in the club, though no one knows the lyrics or has ever woken up in or been inside of a new Bugatti. Turn up!