So, Friday comes around, and I invite a friend to join us at the party in Chelsea. The night seems simple enough, catch taxi, pick up friend, and get to Art Studio in Chelsea to a magazine party. Typical Friday night in New York City, right?
Whilst we were on our trek in the taxi, we get stuck in stand still traffic on 5th Avenue around Rockefeller Center and opt to get out and take a subway downtown. At some point, my phone rings while on the Subway and it’s my friends at the party telling me that “They’re leaving because there is a huge line and its bullshit!” Then, the call drops and I haven’t a clue where they are heading…so, we decide to go on to the party to meet them or wait to get above ground to call. As we’re walking in the freezing temperatures to the event, we get to the event and there is a massive line to get in.
My friend sends me a text to come to the backstage and come to the seats (bypass the line). At this point, I’m in no mood because I’m sober, starving and this place is a shit show full of a people standing in line for something.
After a long stretch of exhausting texts, my friend comes to the line to retrieve us to enter the party….we bypass the line, gate keeper, walk through a maze of hallways into a strange room, where there are half-naked men/some women changing (presume they are model’s). I spy one guy with his hands down his knickers playing with his balls and wondering, “What in the hell kind of party is this?”
There are some people drinking, and then I realize that we are in the back stage area and it is separated by a sheet to the fashion stage (front). We walk through the sheet and are seated to the right front row seats for the show that is about to start.
Imagine an extremely hot and overcrowded room and there are people all around standing; photographers to the left waiting for the fashion show to begin. It’s hotter than hell in this tiny room…I’m pulling off my huge coat, and presume that I look like I’ve just worked out with the amount of sweat rolling down my back.
I am completely mesmerized by the people watching here tonight, there is a cross dresser in a strange dress, makeup melting with the high heat and the Adams apple and goatee are clear giveaways.
Then, I’m caught staring across at a woman in a moo moo type dress with zebra’s stitched in the dress (What in the hell kind of outfit is this?) and she is wearing some strange shoe hybrid that is a blend of a high-top sneaker and wedge. Around this same time, I catch another woman giving me the stink eye or possibly, that is just the way she look’s normally, and she is wearing a huge necklace resembling medium sized bowling balls around her neck and I’m wondering how much it weighs…as it is awful.
I’m thinking to myself and by this time, and probably saying it out loud, “Why am I Sober? Where are the free drinks? ” At some point, I know that I was thinking that this is why flasks were invented. I was definitely complaining about the fact that I was too sober to be in the venue with this show and I was trying to hold back my laughter as there were serious fashion people taking photos and among us waiting to see this new line.
I’m sitting in a chair and the show begins with a brief show with clothed models…then, they announce that we are preparing for the second show to begin in 5 minutes. There were random men walking about in their underwear.
Then the lights are lowered and within minutes and low and behold, there is a cock in my face. I am staring at men modeling briefs as they walk by me…his junk is in my exact line of vision, approximately a few feet from my face, and I am asking myself, “How funny is this? Wait, is that a tattoo on this guy, or is he wearing a tiger tooth?”
I’m trying to do anything that I can, not to laugh.
Yes, you are thinking Marky Mark (Mark Wahlberg) wearing boxer briefs in the Calvin Klein ad, aren’t you? Well, if that were the case, I would be smiling and content. However, imagine a dirty version of juveniles, covered with tattoos, and wearing sneakers and jungle themed jewelry. Hahaha… some of my friends would love that image, I imagine.
Then, even in the hottest venue I realize, ”Hold On….I’m going to take photo’s as no one would believe this is how I spent my evening.”
I know that you’re wondering… how did I end up here? Oh yeah…
Let’s go to this party on Friday! What’s not to like? Free drinks and all…All you need to do is send a confirmation message with your names.
See you Friday!
(No mention of men in underwear)
Sounds Great!! I’ll touch base on Friday and see you there!
In looking back at this invitation, there is no mention of underwear clad young men traipsing about showing off their manhood, but it was a great night with friends and every time I think about it, I laugh.
I finally got that drink after we finally left this place, but managed to be home and in bed by midnight with a great story; however, not before sending cock shots of my evening to my friends to share the love. 🙂
- Chinatown & The Happy Ending… (justagirlinnyc.com)
- Bad Choices…always make Good Stories… (justagirlinnyc.com)
- My Dating stories prior to NYC…and we all come to NYC to fall in Love, right? (justagirlinnyc.com)
- If it’s supposed to happen….It Will. (justagirlinnyc.com)
This event was a complete shotshow