Club

I’ve been going to clubs for over twenty years in New York. When I was young, I would head into Manhattan with high school friends from Queens, and we’d go to the Tunnel, to the Palladium, to MK and to the Underground, among others. I had this Willi Wear suit that my brother had given me, I’d slick my hair back and don a tie, and tell everyone that I was 23. I was 16. I never needed ID, because one of my friends was a promoter and everyone thought he was 25 (he was 16 too).

Last night, I went to the newest incarnation of the New York club scene, the very exclusive 1Oak, which is a pseudo-acronym for One of a Kind. It’s a kind of a super-club, having been created in partnership by some of NY’s biggest club promoters, the guys who own Butter among them.

We were out for my friend Ryan’s birthday. Going out with Ryan typically is a good time, because (1) he is always in a group of a few guys and a dozen or more beautiful women, and (2) because of his relationships at these clubs, like 1Oak (which is supposed to be the hardest door in NYC), we rarely if ever pay for a drink. I’d met him a bit earlier at Bagatelle, in the Meatpacking district for a dinner for his birthday with perhaps ten or twelve friends. After some drinks (I didn’t eat but it looked tasty), we stopped by Kiss and Fly (which occupies the old Aer space) next door, having been escorted through the Bagatelle kitchen (Goodfellas Henry Hill style) and through a door that led into the club from the restaurant (next door) to the KNF VIP area. We guzzled some Veuve Clicquot for half an hour, and then were out the door and over to 1OAK. In tow at this point, jammed in a few cabs, were perhaps five guys, maybe ten or fifteen girls, and a huge mammoth of a fellow that turned out to be Michael Olowakandi, former NBA center and number one draft pick. I didn’t let him know that he’d been a bust pick for me in a fantasy league years back. Doubt he would have been interested. Nice guy though.

We met a bunch more people inside 1OAK, and went to a table next to the DJ booth. There was more champagne, more women and some very good spinning going on. It was one thirty when we got these, we didn’t leave til perhaps four fifteen, and after some drama, I didn’t get home til five forty five AM or so. Outside of the enormous Michael O. and a little end of the night fisticuffs (which I helped break-up), the night was pretty standard. The place is nicer looking that many clubs, more interesting design-wise, but like I said, I've pretty much seen it all over the last twenty years or so. But its really all about the crowd, and beautiful russian models sitting on my lap and asking me if I mind. This place did fine with both, so I was OK.

I have to admit I am a little worn out today, and depending on her schedule, I may be meeting a photographer, D, who I’d met last weekend out at Sway, tonight for a drink (she has an opening so it’s a play it by ear thing for tonight). I like her fine, but I think I’d be just peachy to meet up over the weekend instead.

Nice to be back in NY, at least for a bit.