The Weekender
Monday, October 29, 2007
Have you heard of Tavern on the Green? How about their famous Halloween parties? Well that’s where I was. Halloween is a holiday that I love very much and since I know a lot of PR people/club promoters, I know that Halloween is a great excuse for them to financially ass rape the NY population with an extra thrust by charging $50 entrance fees, justified by the concept of a “Halloween Party”.
And clubs aren’t the only ones cleverly commercializing on Halloween’s easily exploitive nature. Costume shops somehow convince normally savvy Manhattanites to shell out a hundred bucks for a disintegrating cliché costume in a plastic bag that cost $2.50 to produce in China or India.
I’m being the textbook definition of a party pooper, I know. And I apologize. Anyone who follows this blog knows hating on an excuse to party isn’t my nature. But I spent a wretched twenty minutes competing with sluts, Ghost Busters, and a lot of slutty outfits (ref, genie, cop, wonderwoman) for a cab home Saturday evening on Seventh Avenue after I prematurely aborted my evening plans. The city was that overcrowded. I wasn’t drunk, and an especially disorganized trip to a stupid opening night at a restaurant led to a hit and run (drunk driver speeding and went inmy dad’s new 2008 BMW) on Friday night had cut into my quality weekend costume planning time, which I wasn’t looking forward to anyway. Sober in a sweater and jeans isn’t really the best way to crash a Halloween party, especially when you’re still upset about the asshole who crashed into your car.
I enjoyed an especially leisurely dinner with The Writer Saturday night, so we didn’t even get to Tavern on the Green until around midnight. It was clear from twenty yards away that entering the establishment was a lost cause. Lines branched off in two directions outside the entrance, both so long and winding that they were difficult to follow even while squinting. Mobs larger than anything I’ve seen on 27th street launched themselves through the middle.Who were all these people?
Another disturbing thing about Holidays…those who consistently stay home on a Saturday night come out for the ‘special occasion’ of Halloween. The city becomes disproportionately packed! The entire party-going system is clogged with outsiders. Which is fine. I have nothing against non-religious-party-goers, although I wish they’d try harder to not get so ripped off.In order to even out the New York going-out equilibrium, I feel the regulars like me need to stay in. That’s why I was home by 3 a.m. The Writer and I took one look at the throngs outside Tavern, calculated that everyone lucky enough to negotiate a successful entrance would be coughing up $40-ish for the privilege of buying drinks inside, silently applauded Tavern’s money-making savvy, and high-tailed it out of there.
A girlfriend of ours who’d wisely arrived at ten p.m. and had a table in the VIP section (Tavern on the Green has a VIP section? Apparently on Halloween they do…) confirmed that the party was fabulously fun. So I’m not bad-mouthing their bash. I like Tavern if only for the sparkly Christmas lights wrapped around all the trees. Cheers to them for monopolizing on Halloween in the most lucrative scheme I’ve seen yet.
The good news is that if I have the willpower, I can redeem myself Wednesday night – the official day of Old Hallows Eve. Word on the street is that Cipriani’s 42nd street is throwing some sort of Wednesday night Halloween ‘ball’ in collaboration with Roberto Cavalli vodka, Pink’s hosting a ‘disco inferno,’ and the Italians will be rocking their own mini party at I Tre Merli in SoHo. See yout there?
And clubs aren’t the only ones cleverly commercializing on Halloween’s easily exploitive nature. Costume shops somehow convince normally savvy Manhattanites to shell out a hundred bucks for a disintegrating cliché costume in a plastic bag that cost $2.50 to produce in China or India.
I’m being the textbook definition of a party pooper, I know. And I apologize. Anyone who follows this blog knows hating on an excuse to party isn’t my nature. But I spent a wretched twenty minutes competing with sluts, Ghost Busters, and a lot of slutty outfits (ref, genie, cop, wonderwoman) for a cab home Saturday evening on Seventh Avenue after I prematurely aborted my evening plans. The city was that overcrowded. I wasn’t drunk, and an especially disorganized trip to a stupid opening night at a restaurant led to a hit and run (drunk driver speeding and went in
I enjoyed an especially leisurely dinner with The Writer Saturday night, so we didn’t even get to Tavern on the Green until around midnight. It was clear from twenty yards away that entering the establishment was a lost cause. Lines branched off in two directions outside the entrance, both so long and winding that they were difficult to follow even while squinting. Mobs larger than anything I’ve seen on 27th street launched themselves through the middle.Who were all these people?
Another disturbing thing about Holidays…those who consistently stay home on a Saturday night come out for the ‘special occasion’ of Halloween. The city becomes disproportionately packed! The entire party-going system is clogged with outsiders. Which is fine. I have nothing against non-religious-party-goers, although I wish they’d try harder to not get so ripped off.In order to even out the New York going-out equilibrium, I feel the regulars like me need to stay in. That’s why I was home by 3 a.m. The Writer and I took one look at the throngs outside Tavern, calculated that everyone lucky enough to negotiate a successful entrance would be coughing up $40-ish for the privilege of buying drinks inside, silently applauded Tavern’s money-making savvy, and high-tailed it out of there.
A girlfriend of ours who’d wisely arrived at ten p.m. and had a table in the VIP section (Tavern on the Green has a VIP section? Apparently on Halloween they do…) confirmed that the party was fabulously fun. So I’m not bad-mouthing their bash. I like Tavern if only for the sparkly Christmas lights wrapped around all the trees. Cheers to them for monopolizing on Halloween in the most lucrative scheme I’ve seen yet.
The good news is that if I have the willpower, I can redeem myself Wednesday night – the official day of Old Hallows Eve. Word on the street is that Cipriani’s 42nd street is throwing some sort of Wednesday night Halloween ‘ball’ in collaboration with Roberto Cavalli vodka, Pink’s hosting a ‘disco inferno,’ and the Italians will be rocking their own mini party at I Tre Merli in SoHo. See yout there?
