One Night in Sugar

Expectations are useful and unwanted. Expectations are adaptable, flexible, modifiable, and variable. They make one smarter. They make one stronger. They make defeats resemble victories. They make victories more substantial. How are expectations unwanted? Eventually, one’s moment occurs and expectations must be met…

For seven days, innuendo, rumor, and speculation swirled. Would Paris Hilton actually appear in Sugar Bar? I had complete confidence she would. Why was I so confident? Chris Corso, Mike Gallicchio, and Brian Swanson are not morons. They are not stupid. If Hilton’s appearance were merely a publicity stunt, forget figurative egg… Corso would be scraping omelet off of his face indefinitely…

With one hour remaining until Sugar Bar’s open, activity and energy were omnipresent. Whenever I am asked my favorite aspect of this website, I never hesitate… The hours prior to open and subsequent to close are my favorite… The bunnies and bunny chasers never witness these hours…. They never witness (unless they have worked in a venue) the hours of prepping or concluding a venue requires…

As drink slingers and servers placed bottles onto tables, security mentally prepared, and sound was checked, Gallicchio and Swanson paced with anticipation. Their demeanor and dialogue was an intricate mixture of accomplishment, cockiness, and nervous energy… Would Hilton produce the crowd? Would the crowd arrive earlier? Would the evening equal previous iconic escapades?

I know I’ve mentioned Swanson previously, but inevitably, he is an annotation when I discuss Corso and Gallicchio. Why is this? Corso and Gallicchio’s persona scream millionaire moguls… Swanson’s persona suggests your high school classmate, who always strode with assurance because he knew the proposition was not if, but when he would succeed. Corso and Gallicchio made nightlife in this city, but Swanson is equally relevant… He is the street credibility of the trio…

Approximately one hour into the evening, one of my previous questions was answered… The crowd maintained this city’s reputation for tardiness… On the sidewalk, Gallicchio prowled as if he were a Royal Bengal Tiger… His eyes were intense… His face was expressionless… By eleven p.m. on the night of Donnie Wahlberg’s appearance, Sugar Bar was crushed… By eleven p.m. on this night, one could dribbled a basketball comfortably through the venue…

Thankfully, Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure rescued the opening hours… You would assume I would have one evening where I encounter the precocious pop tart and cannot construct a paragraph… I’ve known her less than two weeks… That evening was not this evening, as via her personality and scrumptious black and sequined dress, Whitney once again ensorcelled my attention…

Ensnaring my attention for the polar opposite reason was the casting session for Freaks & Beef that Sugar Bar was hosting… I know I’ve typed several scorching sentences about heifers and I promise I will type some more… But, I must cuddle another controversy and discuss the transvestite collection which was present this evening… I want to say this before you even type word one, let alone sentence one, of your e-mails… I have no objection to an alterative lifestyle…

However, transvestite is not an alternative lifestyle… Men wearing dresses (as several did this evening) or women wearing men’s clothing is not appropriate… Ken transforming himself into Barbie doesn’t make Ken a special subset of people worthy of equal rights… It makes him weird… Every moment the abhorrent green and gold dress wearing perversion crept near me this evening was a moment when I considered leaping from Sugar Bar’s balcony onto the dance floor…

I promised I would return to my favorite piñata and the heifers were prevalent amidst the platinum bunnies tonight… I realize every crowd cannot be composed solely of muffins and some evenings, an even equation is a victory… But, Sugar Bar’s crowds have crossed the sixty-forty parallel and are flirting with seventy-thirty… Is Sugar Bar the official venue for those who haven’t heard the words calorie count or can we correct this?

At approximately 12:30, I encountered Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness, who informed me that Hilton would not be arriving until one a.m. Thirty seconds and less than fifteen steps after those words were spoken, I was walking the edge of the venue’s dance floor when Hilton strutted past me…

Dressed in royal blue with a matching headband and showcasing enough diamonds to purchase several sections of this city (as well as city center for the purpose of turning it into her dog’s new home), Hilton was escorted into the balcony by a phalanx of security that would have made any elected official in any state or city jealous… Six security personnel and a trio of police…

As Hilton ascended into the balcony, an anticipated and anxious throng followed (and was of course refused entrance into the balcony by security)… Moments subsequent, I encountered the throng personally when Avi Primetime, Shawn Money, and I sought our spots above the dance floor… Avi was in front of me with a hand on my shoulder… Shawn was behind me with a hand in my back… We squeezed our way through the clamoring hoard and after one moment of walking stairs arrived in Paris’ perch…

And allow me to state that the seconds I was squeezed through the clamoring hoard were completely worth it… Above the dance floor was an unequaled compilation of empire and platinum bunny perfection… Corso, Gallicchio, Swanson, Randy Haffey, Tori, Shawn, Avi, and Paris Hilton… I know I’ve compared this city’s nightlife with the circus, but that comparison was marginal until this evening… Above the dance floor, I was now part of the collection in the center ring…

Within ten minutes of my entrance into the balcony, Hilton assumed the microphone and spoke with her typical tandem of instigative playfulness… She then swallowed a shot, took pictures of the crowd on the floor, danced with her boyfriend (was anyone even noticing he was there), danced with herself, and sat atop the rail… With her back to the potential peril, Hilton appeared placid and provocative, openly flirting with those who could not garner entrance into her paradise…

If asked (and I don’t know this personally, but everything I’ve read suggests it), Hilton will tell you that she craves the camera and that she makes the cameras crave her… Both were true this evening… Her antics entranced and invited digital flashes and those digital flashes outnumbered the amount of people staring toward the balcony…

Amidst the crush of digital flashes, Corso approached and requested vindication… The conversation I will keep private, but the subtext was that Hilton had appeared, even though this city had doubted his ability to produce this result… I will retype what I told him and also twittered… Chris, I make it a point never to doubt the king…

As her night concluded, Hilton appeared dissimilar to the decadent debutante, who had entered the balcony only ninety minutes earlier… Seated upon a couch, her boyfriend’s arm around her, Hilton was withdrawn… She smoked a cigarette… She pressed her hands to her face… She appeared at multiple points to cry…

At approximately two a.m., Hilton surrounded herself with security and walked the stairs toward the exit… As she passed the balcony bar, the upstairs drink slinger snapped a pair of pictures and Hilton disappeared into the stairwell… Her hyped and hyperbole visit to this city concluded with only pictures as proof she was ever present…

In the exhilaration of their triumph, Corso, Gallicchio, and Swanson celebrated and conversed with clutches, as their venue was cleaned… Despite incomprehensible expectations, the trio once again, shut up and put their money where their mouth was… Today, the expectations will alter, as the trio shakes this conquest from their memories…

Reasons to Relish & Resign

People don’t appreciate the human aspect of this website. The bunny chasers and bunnies, their random actions and fashion, are column material, but they are vastly anonymous. The venues are column material, but they are vastly inanimate. It’s the natural slingers, the camaraderie and friendship, the moments you read and the stories you never will, that make this website.

Tonight, Thursday Night Live experienced it’s second edition. I promise we will discuss the occurrences and results… However, this was an evening when winners were nonexistent. This was an evening when the squad atop the scoreboard didn’t defeat their opponents; they merely outscored them.

While the clutches were scattered and unmemorable, DJ Legend and DJ Samurai were exquisite. Last week, DJ Samurai was patterned and predictable. This evening, DJ Legend’s creativity was equaled… DJ Legend mixed “Love Story” dance remix… DJ Samurai responded with an “Other Side” dance remix. DJ Legend spun “How Do You Sleep” and “Summer Girls.” DJ Samurai responded with “Poker Face” over the “Rocky Theme.”

The clash was an auditory delight. If only the crowd could have merited this skirmish… Pre-game, Lodge Bar appeared to enjoy a minimal advantage. In-game, Sugar Bar scored the initial round, although their swarm induced wincing (and only some of it was mine)… Particularly putrid was their stage, which was inhabited by an amount of weight not seen since the NFL Draft’s top ten selections…

While the heifers were horrific, Emily Rose Perfection’s presence made their repulsiveness invisible. I know I typed that Emily Rose is my favorite Lucky Charm… She may be (although she has a crush of competition) my favorite platinum bunny, venue employee or non-employee, in this city… It’s not simply her fashion (green and white top, form flattering white shorts)… It’s not simply her eighteen carat personality… It’s not simply her thirty-six carat appearance… It’s the elegant, precocious, and scandalous combination of the trio…

From the moment she arrived to the moment she messed up my hair, Emily’s glamour and magnetism were omnipresent… I typed this once with another superstar, but at this moment, the verbiage is transferable… You think ultimately, I would run out of adjectives for her, but every moment, Emily Rose’s personality amazes me…

In the second round, the crowd continued to disappoint me… While Sugar Bar scored the sequence on numbers, Lodge Bar possessed almost every platinum bunny (except Emily Rose)… The venues were polar opposites with similar attributes… Lodge Bar with every morsel and zero mass… Sugar Bar with an impressive mass and zero morsels…

Since I mentioned morsels, I must spend several sentences adoring Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure, who has accomplished in six evenings, what some bunnies amass six weeks attempting… She has captivated and ensorcelled my attention…

It’s not merely her appearance, which is understatedly scrumptious… It is her intoxicating personality, which compels one to flirt with her, respect her, snuggle with her, and speak with her… You spend five minutes with Whitney; you want to spend twenty minutes… You spend twenty minutes with her; you want to spend twenty hours…

With this evening’s masses, I wanted to spend about thirty seconds less than thirty seconds… Sugar Bar completed their domination and scored a shutout… However, they should not salute or savor this triumph… If this were last week or Lodge Bar could have scraped together (and by scraped together, I mean admit anyone they could find) a crowd, Sugar Bar’s random recital might not have sufficed…

As the evening concluded, my twitter updates abruptly concluded, when I heard the most incomprehensible news… Crown Princess Kadi and Lodge Bar have separated… Crown Princess Kadi was this website’s initial superstar… She was the most referenced superstar and the first person I dealt with on an everyday basis… Her exodus is not merely disheartening…. Her exodus is devastating…

As I walked Vine Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with two thoughts… The first was obvious; this will likely be Crown Princess Kadi’s final mention in my column… The second was much more complex…

In the eyes and minds of venue executives, the natural slingers are akin to cattle… They are acquired, raised, and slaughtered without compassion or concern… In my eyes, they are the entire attraction… They are not a reason this website succeeds… They are the reason…

Memorial Weekend Waste Simply Another Sideshow

Immerse yourself within this city’s nightlife and you will achieve a realization. It is the circus. The drink slingers and promotions superstars are the attractions. The bunnies, bunny chasers, intoxicated, and randoms are the spectacle. And the margin separating the cliques is negligible.

Prior to Cinco de Mayo and St. Patrick’s Day, I had minimal and moderated expectations… I should have maintained similar skepticism for Memorial Day. I assumed the comfortable weather and weekend placement would instinctively entice the masses into various venues. What I forgot was that this city calendars only Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for the purposes of inebriation…

Throughout the evening, Lodge Bar was scattered. With music inside and outside, the crowd remained energetic. A plurality of chairs were occupied. Several tables were occupied. Still, the crowd never resembled or rivaled Mardi Gras… It never even resembled or rivaled four days ago, when the venue secured scoreboard over Sugar Bar… (Trust me, the results were different this evening)…

While I typically covet crowd and energy, scattered evenings produce spectacular column material…. And no one is more spectacular column material or simply spectacular than Lodge Bar Promotions Superstar Jen Bunny… As she danced, flirted, laughed, and talked, it was impossible to extract my attention from her (And I suppose it helped that I didn’t actually want to)… It’s not as if Lodge Bar isn’t littered with platinum… However, Jen Bunny is an immaculate marquee amongst their several scrumptious solitaires (for those unfamiliar with the terminology, google diamonds)…

Jen Bunny was marvelous material, but Jake Wisdom provided the evening’s signature conversation… Since my initial appearance at Lodge Bar, I must have spoken with Jake on two dozen occasions… What makes every conversation valuable is the expertise and knowledge I acquire by simply listening… I may offer parameters or topics, but Jake owns the conversation…
Within thirty minutes of my arrival at Lodge Bar (for those of you lost, this is what you might term a flashback), I received a phone call and stepped outside the venue… As I spoke on my phone, Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Co-Owner Mike Gallichio pulls alongside the curb… He asks if I reside or work at Lodge Bar… I answer no… He then asks why I spend the hours I spend at Lodge Bar if I don’t reside or work there….

Obviously, I expect venue executives and promotions superstars to campaign and request coverage… However, Sugar Bar’s continuous campaigning is ridiculous… They critique other venues… They protest our coverage… They seek attention… Do I never venture into their venue? (Wait, I am in their venue almost every evening)… Sugar Bar is an exemplary scene and their owners shouldn’t campaign… They should simply enjoy what I type…

They should also enjoy what I twitter, if and when the conversations cease and allow me to twitter… I can’t say this enough, I adore and respect everyone that I encounter… They make this website possible… However, their charm and my penchant for never shutting up are impeding my reporting… Half of my evenings are conversations… Seventy percent of my evenings should be reporting…

Eventually, I entered Sugar Bar, which enjoyed a swarmed night… I could spend multiple paragraphs discussing that, but I will instead focus on the conversations, which captivated most of my attention… Jen Excellence and Molly Style are the most amusing and random pair in this city… Whether it’s mocking the masses or promoting themselves, they are never sans confidence or a concise retort…

Shawn Money and Avi Primetime are a pair which separately provide enough column material for a month and jointly provide enough column material for the next two years… They are entertaining and informative… They are sarcastic and serious… They comprehend what their occupation is and isn’t… Whereas the masses want to be them for an evening, they wouldn’t mind being one of the masses…

And now I must mention another superstar, someone I met only two evenings ago, but someone who has already earned several conversations and a twitter mention… Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure… You appreciate her presence for five minutes… You speak with her for ten minutes… And you can’t completely understand her… Behind her crystal appearance, she is a New Life Crisis song… She’s blessed, depressed… Her inner beauty remains confined…

Preventing one completely vacant evening was Park Street Patio, who was swarmed from the moment I arrived until the moment I closed my phone… Every chair as occupied… Every table was occupied… And their music was incredible… I’m unaware as to how much money was raised, but if the event served as an indication, the coffers should be crushed…

Speaking of worthy causes, I enjoyed a twenty-minute conversation with Crawl for Cancer Organizer JP Ratajczak, whose event (which will include all afternoon and evening twitter coverage) is less than one week away… As one speaks with JP, he is clearly scattered and swarmed with details… Yet, his workload doesn’t detract from his intrigue or passion for the event that his consumed his persona…

I cannot conclude this column without mentioning Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Randy Haffey, whose success I referenced earlier… On a regrettable and scattered evening, Haffey executed an eighteen-carat success. His triumph merits praise, not only for the charitable contribution it provided, but for the highlight it intermixed into an otherwise horrific night…

As light illuminated the five venues that were available this evening, bunnies, bunny chasers, and randoms staggered toward their cars… Drink slingers counted receipts, emptied trash, and scrubbed bottles… This was not an evening either clique had expected… Yet, each was only hours away from another evening in the center ring…