After living in New York City for a week, I planned to meet up with a friend in Midtown for an evening coffee date. Clad in a striped cotton t-shirt (Ralph Lauren) and jeans (Citizens of Humanity), I felt fully prepared to relax, exchange amusing life anecdotes and savor a Venti Non-Fat Chai Tea Latte (made with coffee in place of water for extra caffeine and flavour).
What I was not prepared for, however, was when my friend arrived and said, “Forget coffee. I think I can get you into this party. On a roof!”
That was all I needed to hear, of course. So off we went down the street and into an unmarked, innocuous building. Inside the lobby was a VIP table with an event planner checking names. “Friends and family of…” We said nonchalantly. I should mention we did not know the party recipient or its hosts. Security detail (there was security detail–with ear pieces!) wrapped our wrists in colorful bracelets and ushered us to the elevator bank.
And then we were on the roof.
So I spent the evening in a t-shirt and jeans–surrounded by people done up to the 9s in their LBDs, glittering jewels and hot, hot, hot 5” heels. Did I feel out of place? You bet. Did I order another cocktail and work it out? Of course. When you’ve got an open bar at your fingertips and the Hudson glimmering in the distance, there’s nothing you can do but straighten your spine and act like you arrived with a purpose.
Upon telling this story the next day, I got very similar replies along the lines of, “What a great New York story!” “That’s so New York.” and “Welcome to New York City!”
So tell me: are anonymous rooftop parties common in NYC? What about crashing them? Have you ever had the chance?
The next day I was thinking to myself–as I nursed a mild hangover with some pizza from the shop up the block; my inaugural slices as a city resident. Is this New York City life? If so, I think I could get used to it.
~SB
