• by Kelly Samardak , March 23, 2010

Prohibition With Pereira & O'Dell, Barrelhouse, San Francisco
March 17, 2010

What better way to wash the sinful scent of Expo Hall carpet from your brain than with a little alleyway hunt for a speakeasy? Perhaps some of you who headed to Barrelhouse (really the "rec room" at the Pereira & O'Dell office space) did so with little effort, but me? I like to put a little spin on normalcy and take a right when I'm supposed to take a left, walk into office buildings -- where, believe it or not, the security guards are from New York, and know about as much about the area as I do -- and talk with strangers from "the East Bay" on the street about why sometimes the cable cars' antennae touch the wire and why sometimes they don't.

I finally arrived at Barrelhouse with numb toes, exasperated that "two blocks" in San Fran doesn't really mean "two blocks." But I sucked it up, checked in, and looked around. The space is really cool. I know, "cool" is a lame, layerless word, but it fits. The floor is covered in widely spaced slats of wood that chomped angrily on my black patent leather Payless (it's the shoe source!) heels. The smell is undeniably like Granny's basement when you'd sneak her Genny Cream Ale into your sleeping bag as a teenager. And by you I mean me.

Pockets of people were already perched at tall tables, sipping on the free Corona products. Don't mind if I do - I snagged a chubby bottle of Negra Modelo, poked a lime into its neck, and investigated the rest of the joint. Past the bar was a huge open space, lorded over by the green-tee'd DJ, who was fiddling with some button while Bel Biv Devoe's "Poison" thumped around the room.

I teetered up the wrought-iron spiral staircase to the second floor space where a cardboard cutout moose head thrust out from the wall. To the left of recycled Bullwinkle, two shadowy figures were no doubt devising plans to disrupt the next day's OMMA Global panels with challenging statements. Either that or they were wondering where a bloke can get a good slice of pizza in this town...

Pereira & O'Dell's Molly Parsley was making the rounds as the party's gracious host, making sure everyone had a moustache. You read that right; the party was distributing sticky moustaches to guests, which I wore with pride. MediaPost's own John Capone, Erik Sass, Jon Whitfield, and Seth Oilman showed their support for our partners in partydom, as did HealthWarehouse.com's Lalit Dhadphale, MATTER's Paul Kontonis, Twistage's Corey Kronengold, Localytics' Brian Suthoff, Chapell & Associates'Alan Chapell, SocialVibe's Joe Marchese (who whacked his head HARD on a low-slung wooden beam when he vivaciously emerged from the twisty stairs onto the 2^nd floor), and various other non-nametag-wearing revelers remaining incognito.

Before 11 p.m., I headed back to the Marriott Marquis, opting for my responsible whole-wheat side vs. my frosted young-at heart side, knowing full well Day Two was going to be as high powered as Day One. On the way back, my stomach yanked me toward a corner hotdog cart surrounded by St. Patty's Day's honorary Irish. The bun sucked, the dog was cold, but the sauerkraut, crazy onions, and deli mustard eased it down my gullet.

Next up in my continuing cocktail party coverage? The fateful last beverages of the few who took the rumbling red-eye home.

Pictures from the Barrelhouse SF are on Flickr!

Send your event and party invitations (in NYC now) to kelly@mediapost.com