Sutra

Friday night and Saturday morning seemed to mesh into one as I felt like I pulled double duty.

I was invited to my friend D's birthday party (she's on the right in the photo), which was a co-bash with another one of her friends. Originally, I assumed I would just stay for a few hours before going home. But, the fun was on and the night was long.

The party started at a club downtown called Sutra. I thought I was fashionably late, but I was the first one to arrive! Once D showed up, everyone else seemed to pop out of the woodwork with her. Soon, the spot was filled up and the music jumping. D ordered a vodka buffet of sorts and the barmaid arrived with a bottle of Ketel One, buckets of ice, drinking glasses, and several carafes of various drink accouterments (tonic water, club soda, cranberry). At least I was being abstemious with the alcohol (only a few to my credit).

Supposedly, Woody Harrelson was in the house. In another room is more like it. If it wasn't him, the bodyguard who was blocking the doorway to the backroom most certainly was acting like he was there. David Blaine made an appearance that night, but outside while D was out there. Me? I seemed to miss the celebs, but this weekend I did see Rachel Dratch (again) of SNL fame walk by me on my street. She was with another person, so I didn't have to see her bugged out eyes staring back. She lives in my nabe but stares at you like she can't place your face. Weird.

So, after the party cleared out, a small group of us were left and we decided to hot foot it to another club. With time not on our side anymore (2am-ish), we decided to go for Belgian frites on Ave A & 7th St. The night was to only get wackier. While waiting for our order, we noticed a man standing in the streets screaming at everyone. He was one of those crazies who stands there in front of the cars, waits for the lights to turn green, and begins acting up in order to hold up traffic.

We must have caught his attention because he came over and began declaring that he was born here, therefore in the neighborhood first, and people like us had no right to be there. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. His face was covered with those poor looking jail-house type tattoos and he was obviously under the influence of something. I passed my pepper spray to one of the guys in our group who was being engaged by this weirdo while L called 911. The police never arrived!! Our order finally arrived and we escaped back to the front of D & L's house to devour our humongous bags of frites. They were lovely, but I made a mental note never to order a large there - ever.

The night ended nicely. It wasn't until 5am that I finally lay my head on my pillow, but it was worth it.