Just An Online Minute... Keeping Cool In The Cabana With NYCTV
NYCTV 5th Anniversary Celebration, Cabana North Rooftop at The Maritime Hotel, New York
July 8, 2008
On a scale of one to 10, one being "oh man, this is so bloody awesome I could die now and die happy" and 10 being "slap me in the face with a dead grouper," how would you rate getting ready for a "dress to impress" cocktail celebration in a non-air-conditioned apartment, incredibly aware of creeping underboob sweat? All grouper talk aside, the tiny hot tubs of salt pooling in my various pits (arms, knees, elbows) did nothing to dissuade me from L-training it to Chelsea for the NYCTV 5th anniversary "if you can't stand the heat, get hotter up here on the roof" party.
Holy heat, batman! Waiting for the L train was like waiting to see how long it takes for human skin to melt off the body like peanut butter Tasti D-Lite. I actually positioned myself in the path of the stinky hot subway breath of the approaching train to blow off a layer of sweat. Who needs Chanel when you've got Eau De New York Underbelly (special summer rat feces edition!)?
I arrived a tad too late to make the effort of squeezing into a spot on the "orange carpet" worthwhile, which worked out great -- I was able to knock into a few early guests like Jenny Lau, production office manager for Manhattan Center by day and host of public access call-in show, "S.I.N." ("Single In NYC"), by night, Brett Casper, fuzzy card-carrying man of mystery, and friends on the already heat-moist settee who were "ready to get our groove on... ready to get our drink on!" I was ready to get my fridge on. But first! The open bar by Sagatiba...
Mind you, I'm traumatized by my Campari captivity experience (since then I've had some OK run ins with the stuff) -- so any time I see that an open bar is specific to one brand, I get brain-zooting flashbacks, I scream in a corner, and sometimes I'll club baby seals and have no recollection of it (oh loosen up people, I'm joshing). Either way, I was pleasantly surprised by the strawberry goodness that quickly slipped down my throat, cooling my overheating pipes. The floppy-haired, patient (GIVE ME A VODKA TONIC!! shouting makes me want to do a little by-proxy strangulation), cute as a button bartender didn't hurt, either.
I actually forgot it was hot because the music made everything ooze together in a dark sexy soup. Speaking of music, I was 100% committed to giving the DJ a really great shout-out after being introduced to him by artist Gregory Coates until he honked "where the white girl at?" in the direction of a group of happily dancing party people [Uncomfortable silence] "There she is!" [More awkward silence]. I wasn't the only one making a "who put this poop on my shoe" grimace. So, quick recap: Gregory Coates -- thumbs up. DJ -- thumbs sideways.
Squeezing around the tightly packed-like-bulk-toilet-paper-at-BJ's open-bar crowd, I bumped into carpet marathoner Amber Lee "Obama Girl" Ettinger, Ken Presley from mediaedge, the lovely and efferfescent Timi Lewis of NYC Media Group, and one of my favorites, Ben Dwork of NYC & Company, who was pleased as a pickletini that I knew NYC & Company isn't selling pants.
The craziest part of the night is that I completely forgot about food. Yes! Me! Forgetting about food! I know, crazy. I was either so pleasantly buzzed on good drinks, good times, and good people, that even if there were chewable chunks, it was a mystery to me -- OR I'm over the whole "the food defines the party" thing. It could be a combo. I think it's the former. Congratulations to NYCTV for 5 years of informing and entertaining New Yorkers and for making me forget my belly!
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