Anil notes that Entertainment Weekly's "IT List" party pictures "curiously omit the Gawker duo." We were there, but I wouldn't say the omission was that terribly curious.
We showed up at the door and said we were "on the list."
"Everyone's on the list," snorted the bouncer. "Back of the line!" (gesturing toward the line that stretched to 10th street.)
"No, but we're, like, on the list in the magazine," we protested. "The 'IT List.'"
The bouncer looked skeptical (or was it hostile?) but a guy with a clipboard and a headset confirmed it.
"You wouldn't mind running through the press gauntlet, would you?" the Clipboard Guy asked, motioning to a line of celebrities being photographed on a blue carpet.
"Do we have to?" we whined.
Clipboard Guy frowned, then realized that no one would know who we were anyway and released the velvet ropeor the metaphorically velour rope, as it were. Gawker publisher Nick Denton left after a grand total of 15 minutes. His celebrity encounters consisted of running [literally] into American Idol second placer Justin Guarini on the sprint out the door, after which Nick presumbly continued home to remove the stench of C-list from his clothes.
My celebrity encounters consisted of being dissed by the bartender for various Sopranos cast members and getting plowed down by part of pop star Jessica Simpson's entourage. Todd Barry, of "I attended the Gothamist happy hour" fame, was there. To be fair, he may be slightly better known as a standup comedian and one of the people on the "IT List"... Then again, they'll put anyone on the "IT List."
I also met NYT "boldface name" gossip columnist JOYCE WADLERstrike that JOYCE WADLER'S [CREDITED] STRINGER. I told her I liked her column. She gave me a blank stare. (What was this "gawker" of which I spoke?) A few feet away, Page Six columnist Richard Johnson was carefully removing the lips of various B-listers from his ass. Nothing else of any consequence happened. No Ashton. No Demi.