Thirty-one
years ago, from Friday, one of my nearest and dearest friends, Erin, decided to make her
presence in the world. Erin and I met seven years ago as waitresses at an
Applebee's Bar and Grill when Erin was new to the city and I had only been
living here for a little over a year myself.
That fall was one of the most memorable of the years that I've had while
in the city and it was the beginning of one of the best friendships that I've
had in my adult life. In many ways Erin and I are very similar, in others, not
so much. One of those not so much ways is how she tends to celebrate her
birthdays. It has never been just one day of fun and adventure, but two or
sometimes even stretched over three days. This is the story of her thirty-first
birthday, one of three, as I can
recall it...
First thing Friday morning, Erin and I woke up early to make our journey over
the river and through the city to our friend's weekend rental on Park Avenue.
Megan is Erin's best friend from the days when boys were still yucky and they had
no clue what to do about hairy legs. I've come to realize through Megan, in the
time that I've had the pleasure of knowing her, that having a real job can get
you nice things...like apartments on Park Avenue, centrally located across the
street from the luxury hotel and rooftop lounge, Gansevoort Park. Gansevoort
Park is where the Kardashian's lived during the two seasons of Kourtney and Kim Take New York. Megan
came from upstate New York with her college friend, Nichole, to have a weekend
away with the girls and for Erin's birthday celebrating. When Megan came down
last year we all found ourselves jumping out of a perfectly good airplane with
strapping young men attached to our behinds. I had some reason to be a little
worried about this year.
The plan for the night was to hop a
couple of rooftop bars with friends and have an accumulation of colorful drinks
in long stem glasses along the way. A few friends of ours get paid nicely to
promote clubs in the city, where the owners salivate at the idea of having as
many women there as possible to attract men who will spend the big bucks on
getting the girls tipsy. We were on some pretty nice lists in the city but we
were not excited about the clothes in our wardrobes. Like most women, we tend
to change our minds often and love to do things last minute. It was decided after
we rummaged through our possible outfits for the evening, that it was time for
new trappings for the occasion.
In frustration the girls and I
scrambled our way over to Herald Square and like tigers after their prey, we ransacked
what seemed like every store on 34th street. We tried on every style and color
combination in search of the Holy Grail of outfits, but this new neon trend had
me searching for my sunglasses every time I walked into a store. When did the 80's come back to town? It
was awful then, what on earth made the fashion world think it needed a revival?
Beat and broke four hours later, we shuffled back to the apartment with
shoulders slumped and weighed down by the guilt of our purchases. However, a
few glasses of Champaign later we were up and at it again and the makeovers
began. Four girls and one bathroom were a sight to see. Megan in one corner
applying her mascara, Erin below me with a hot iron, Nichole to my left
shoulder with a curler and I hovered on tippy toes fearing for my life between
the two searing metal objects. Polished and unscathed by third degree burns
later, we headed out to our first stop, The Sutton Place.
When our friend Marcus had told us about
The Sutton Place it was said that it was a casual dress, rooftop bar, so we
didn't over do it on our ensembles but we were a tad over dressed for this
place. The rooftop was more like a large patio on top of a second story
building than the lounge we had envisioned. We knew the beverages would be
cheaper here than at our next destination so as we mingled with friends and
acquaintances, we lapped up whatever came our way. A few hours later we collected
our friends Melanie and Patrick, and were jumping in a cab heading back
downtown to Gansevoort Park.
To my pleasant surprise, when we
slid out of the cab we completely bypassed the line that was beginning to turn
the next corner and were lead through the velvet ropes, like celebrity
A-listers, directly into the elevators to the penthouse floor. If that wasn't VIP treatment I don't know
what was. When we reached the penthouse level of the lounge, the doors
opened to a sea of sharply dressed men and women under dim blue lights and
sleek de-cor. Surrounding the floor to ceiling glass windows was a wrap around
terrace that gave you a stunning panoramic view of the city below and the stars
above. Either way, you had a great view if you found yourself passed out in a
corner face up before the end of the night.
After a little exploration we
decided to settle in an area and make ourselves comfortable. When I turned
around I realized that I had lost Megan and Nichole through the shuffle of
bodies. However, at some point in the night while making my way to the bathroom
with noble and valiant Patrick leading the way, as I was admiring the soft
white couches adorned with lovely, sexy people sipping drinks or sucking each
other’s faces, I noticed a pair of familiar looking white capris waving in the
air. It seemed that I had found my long lost friends. Through the blur of
intoxication, I dropped my jaw like it was detached from its temporomandibular
joint and collided into Patrick's back when he stopped dead in his tracks after
realizing what we were witnessing. Hovering side-by-side, straddled over two
Indian men, were unabashed Megan and Nichole giving these very grateful eastern
men, very entertaining lap dances. Professional, sophisticated women by day,
lap dancers by night, who would have
thought? Patrick and I quickly giggled our way to the bathroom, anxious to
get there before we wet our pants with laughter and ran back and tell the rest
of the crew. They would never hear the end of this one.
Later in the night, after a
scrambled walk through of the multi leveled lounge with several different rooms
to the space, we found our way to an area where there was a softly lit pool
surrounded by more of those lovely white couches. In the cloudy haze of alcohol
my head was swimming through, the idea of taking a plunge was so tempting I remember
beginning to make my way towards the edge of the pool to dip my tender toes, but
before Melanie and I could finish slipping our shoes off we got the evil eye
from a bouncer and sheepishly placed our heels back on our achy feet, then made
our way back to our corner for a time out. That was the last thing I remember
before I found myself in a cab with Erin, back over the river and through the
city to our neck of the woods. One night down, two to go.
To
be continued...
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