Team Party Crash: Wenner Media's Holiday Party
Wenner Media's annual holiday party at Irving Plaza last night was just what you'd expect: cute girls in pointy shoes with higher levels of blood alcohol content than Christmas cheer. Intern Neel, back in town for a round of free drinks, sneaked into the bash. It was worth the subterfuge: he abused the open bar, chatted up Ann Coulter and Tim Robbins (above), and endured the music of Maroon 5 (no word on the attendance of US Weekly staffers, who may have been still confined to deadline hell). Neel's drunken report and photos after the jump.
Initially, there was no sign of Head Honcho Jann Wenner (above) himself, but that was most likely due to the fact that we were denied access to the upstairs V.I.P. section, where even cuter girls in pointier shoes mingled amongst themselves. Humbled but not dejected, we drank ourselves into a steady stupor outside the velvet ropes, waiting for the right moment to interject with those we had no God-given right to interject with.
Finally, after much drink—scratch that—waiting, none other than fascist du jour Ann Coulter and lefty Tim Robbins (yeah, we were confused at the pairing as well) emerged from behind the protective sheath. "Damn," noted a Wennerite I'd been sharing vodka tonics with near the food buffet upsairs. "That's about as unlikely a couple as Adolph Hitler and Winston Churchill." Indeed.
As a young P.R. type attempted to engage Mr. Robbins in conversation, I carefully approached the "Hitler" of the tandem. "Big fan, Ms. Coulter," I started. She seemed merry enough, so I continued. "If you could have one Christmas wish, what would it be?" Everyone's favorite Republican gave the question careful thought. "I'd wish for all the liberals to move to Canada," she answered with a giggle.
Damn. She actually humored my retarded question! I had my opening. "Haha. Good answer. So, what brings you to this party? Not to pass judgement, but it seems as if you're out of your ideological comfort zone here. You know, with everyone here being liberal and all." Again, Ms. Coulter laughed. "Well, Jann did try to throw me out earlier."
"Ha, why is that?" I retorted. Ms. Coulter gave me the look given to those who should know better. "Ummmm. Because I'm Ann Coulter." I sensed the end was near. "Thanks for your time."
Feeling content with my work, I put my pad and pen away and headed back to the bar for another drink. Evidently, my pen-pocketing wasn't quick enough: "Excuse me," noted a woman who had been milling around Ms. Coulter all night. "May I ask who you're with?" Easy now, I thought to myself. Don't blow it. "Er, US Weekly?"
"Actually, I'm the head of P.R. for US Weekly," came the reply. "I'm pretty sure you're not with them."
"Oh. Yeah, you got me. I'm with Gawker. I guess I'll be on my way now." The time had come for me to depart. I strolled downstairs for one last rum and Coke before exiting. At the bottom of the stairs, however, was none other than Mr. Jann Wenner himself. He looked at ease sporting a black suit and five o'clock shadow.
"Fantastic party, Mr. Wenner," I began. He agreed. I pressed forward. "Are you aware that Tim Robbins and Ann Coulter are hee-hawing it up upstairs? What do you make of that pairing?" He flashed an ear-to-ear smile. "It's Christmas. All are welcome here." Fair enough. We bid adieu as he sauntered off.
Back to the wooden bar I went for that last rum and Coke. I plunked down my last tip for the blonde barkeep and gave thanks, but not before a suit-sporting man in his mid-40s approached: "Could I get some more Vodka in this drink, if you don't mind? I'm trying to misbehave a little bit tonight." He gave a wink as the bartender oblidged and stiffened his drink. At least some of us were on the same page.
And now, for your viewing pleasure, all the pretty people:
