out at paul's baby grand in soho
this night was a substack
If you’re in LA, don’t miss my hour of stand up, Powerpoints, and crowd work (flirting) on Friday, January 10 at Lyric Hyperion. Tickets here.
And NYC, you have your chance too! Saturday, March 22 at 7:30pm at my home Union Hall. Tickets here.
Day of the Week: Tuesday
Neighborhood: Tribeca
The Crew: My good friend and the GM of the iconique Club Cumming Julian Church and DJ/comedienne extraordinaire Nina Tarr. Yeah, this night out was with two of the hottest people in NYC nightlife, no big.
The Fit: “Vintage” H&M bodycon short-sleeve slate grey minidress and Franco Sarto knee-high black heeled boots. The vibe was influencer with a “bespoke” pj line (made in China, all polyester).
Home by 3am
THE PRE-GAME: Two Rooftop Hotel Bars - The Broken Shaker at the Freehand Hotel and The Roof at Public Hotel
I picked Julian up at work where we took a shot of tequila for the road ($0) and headed to The Broken Shaker at the Freehand for dating influencer Tiff Baira’s birthday party sponsored by Tinder.
Now I don’t know Tiff, but I’m a fan of Street Hearts, her internet show where she sets New Yorkers up on blind dates. Her producers have been trying to book me for a few months; however, for the past two attempts, the guys they set me up with cancelled last minute. So… those are probably not the guys for me. I’d never cancel on a shoot…let alone…on me!!!
Her open invite, branded birthday party was advertised on Partiful with promises of swag. I thought…why not! And I love the Broken Shaker, the rooftop tropical oasis themed cocktail bar (Aesthetic: 8/10), and used to run a monthly show there called The Shake Up. Literally no one in the audience would ever laugh (people with senses of humor do not live in Flatiron) but the spicy margaritas…perfect (Yummy-ness: 9/10).
When we arrived, we were lucky to run into my friend, comedian Jared Schwartz and his gorgeous, vibey girlfriend in a floor-length vintage mink jacket that was too risky to hang up. Good job, Jared, proud of you. And upstairs was the very funny comedian and sketch writer, Jack Reichert. And then it all clicked - oh, these guys have gone on dates with Tiff for her series: Take Me Out. God that girl is good at content.
The vibes upstairs were sweet sixteen: vaguely horny children (they were mostly under 25) with nowhere to put that horny energy chatting in small groups (Husband Material: 4/10). Like, if everyone was a little drunker, they’d be making out…but alas (Shaking Ass Factor: 2/10 but it wasn’t the twin DJ’s in cowboy hats fault).
Julian got me a spicy marg ($0 thank you J!!), then we took photos in the sponsored photobooth, and I said hi to the birthday girl for 2 seconds (she was a human disco ball in a mirrored dress I want to steal). Then it was time to go.
The swag bag…empty except for a single can of Celsius. Iconic.
Next was a pit stop at The Roof, Public Hotel’s rooftop bar, to pick up friend of the newsletter DJ/comedienne Nina Tarr. To go to two hotel rooftop bars in the dead of winter… brave.
The Broken Shaker is by far the superior bar imo. The crowd is younger, the cocktails are NYC cocktail priced (still way too expensive, but not debilitating), and the vibes overall are sexy in a beachy, rattan, party-disco way.
Now, The Roof, that’s a bar you go to if you are a wealthy businessman with a mistress (Husband Material: 2/10). So it’s also sexy, but in an evil, American Psycho, these-guys-are-dying-to-explain-the-stock-market-to-you way.
Nina was doing a valiant job spinning disco tracks on vinyl (She’s so hot, funny, and talented it’s unbelievable…stop being good at stuff!!!!), but it was for a few sporadic groups of men in suits who don’t like music…just podcasts (Shaking Ass Factor: 1/10).
I bought a round of drinks for me and Julian ($$) - we’re talking $20 glass of Pinot Grig (Yummy-ness: 2/10). Really the high price point is because the view of the city is spectacular…even if the overall vibe is “you’re in danger, girl, the Wall Street guy is going to push you over the edge then go to work the next morning” (Aesthetic: 5/10).
Julian and I almost froze our cute little asses off taking 1,000 pictures outside in the snow, but anything for the gram. “We need to…for Substack,” he urged. That’s a good friend.
THE GAME: Paul’s Baby Grand
Nina got off at 11:30pm, then it was time to drop off her RECORD COLLECTION (she’s so hot, Jesus!!!!) at The Roxy Hotel and head into Paul’s Baby Grand, their exclusive nightclub.
Nina knows the bouncer (have I mentioned enough times that she’s so cool…) so we didn’t have to wait in the bitter cold. In general, Paul’s is notorious for not only making groups wait forever, but also outright turning people away. You have to come early, looking hot or at the very least…rich. But not tonight! Not my cool nightlife friends!! (Wait Time: 10/10).
Inside is a cracked-out Lily Pulitzer throw-up fever dream. It’s small - just one square room, bar, and bathrooms - but they manage to pack in a ménage of palm tree, tropicana, patterned floral wallpaper, hot pink satin and velvet maximalism (Aesthetic: 10/10). Think your grandmother, but she’s 80-years-old and does ketamine. Maybe yours does!? My beach house in Palm Springs would look like this.
I want my future husband to rent it out for our engagement party (don’t tell me you’re doing it, do all the logistics, and surprise me!!! Please God!!!). Someone write that down. Or…more likely, I’ll rent it out for an after-party for the premiere of one of my projects instead, since it’s looking more and more like I’ll be married only to my work xo.
Nina brought us to the booth where our friend, comedian/DJ Prince of the pop song mash-up and surprising transition, Harkness Granger, was spinning (not vinyl). Oh, the songs were good. They were soooo good (Shaking Ass Factor: 10/10). I’ve been saying for years that Harkness needs to DJ my wedding. Someone write that down.
Julian and I tried to chat up the bartender, an adorable elderly man in a pink bowtie, who was not having any of it. And between the two of us, me and Julian…there is something for everyone! Just not Gary :(
Our tequila shots and drinks to hold were again (Yummy-ness: 5/10).
And we…shook ass. We danced so much. At some point, 1am? 2am? a ladder magically appeared in the middle of the dance floor, and a girl climbed it to hang a disco ball and everyone cheered?! Does that happen every time?! The theatrics!
And ever more magical, next to us, a table of fabulous ladies who lunch abandoned their bottle service. Before anyone could notice, Julian and I pillaged their leftover carafe of vodka. Maybe we’re not cute enough for Gary, but we can scavenge.
The dance floor and tables were filled with very hot hot people in artsy outfits (gallery owners, editors, CBT visionaries, idk), finance guys similar to the guys at The Roof, but post murdering their hapless dates and dancing away their sins, and people in their 50’s that can afford soooo many units of filler, i.e. the Manhattan elite (Husband Material: 6/10).
But I didn’t talk to any of them. No, I was too busy having a religious experience dancing. The night was a movie. No, it was a magazine. …Wait, it was a Substack.
Where should I go next!? Leave a comment, email me, or send me a DM, and I’ll wait in lines, try the cocktails, and go to influencer birthday parties for you!
And if you have any suggestions of bars and clubs you’d like me to try, please get in touch!