It was the annual one thrown by the real St. Patty–celebrity photographer Patrick McMullan, who pulls together a group of monieds, zanies, and their admirers, for a night of schmoozing, boozing, and carousing.
The bash started at KTCHN, where every seat was filled, and each person was lavished with edible goodies, ’80s style. First came the finger food, then salads, then chicken with couscous and scallops with risotto, then doughballs, apple tarts, and coffee. The staff was super cute and friendly as they tended to our every freakin’ whim for three solid hours.
Then everyone moved next door to xl for the big dance party version of what we’d just had.
And it was rather lovely, though I must admit I was in a hyper-sarcastic mood all night.
When someone I hadn’t seen in literally 20 years sincerely asked me, “So what’s new?” I went full-on snark.
“Well, let’s see,” I snarled. “On April 1st, 1993, I started the day with pancakes and sausage. The next day, I had fried eggs. Should I just jump ahead to that Thursday?”
She crawled away in horror, but the extra-awkward thing is, everyone kept dragging her back to me all night. “Michael, did you see? Francine is here! Francine, look. It’s Michael!”
And she had to grimace and walk away all over again.
Maybe the parade should only ban me.