Crobar Opening: The Coked-Up Cruise Ship Sets Sail
Last night's Crobar opening: all of Tenth Avenue between 26th and 29th was a screaming, drunken, frenzied mass of the under-dressed skankocracy. My spies cruised by in a cab, got a look at the horror, and kept right on going as thousands of scantily-clad space prostitutes tried to hail their occupied taxi. An actual attendee writes in, underwhelmed:
The thing about club openings is that they always invite thousands of people and you get a mob scene at the door with everybody waving invitations and pushing to get in. Now, with last night's Crobar opening, we know what happens when you organize the whole thing: it's like a convention on a cruise ship. When we arrived around 9:30 there were two lines. One for people with a gold ticket and one for people that RSVP'd and didn't bring the ticket. Then everybody went into a tent and went up to a long table with 25 people checking to see if you were really invited. If so, you got a black ticket and went on in. It didn't take long for the gigantic space to fill up and then everybody was standing around talking about: "it's like the one in Miami," "who are all these people?," "check out the bottle menu," "why isn't anybody dancing?" We left around 12 and wonder what happened later.