Rock Candy

So they say that New York is the city that never sleeps yet last night my colleagues and I had a hard time finding an open club. The argument holds, we may just not have known where to go...but one of the girls runs an event planning gig on the side with her boyfriend--she refers to him as her "partner", which throws everyone off on her sexual orientation...but he's very much a HE.

The original plan was to head over to China Club from our office drink thing at Bull Run. However it was closed. Not closed for a private party but CLOSED on a thursday on a mild February evening. Weird. So then we decided to head to Crobar. When we arrived, they were--you guessed it--CLOSED. However they had a good excuse, a private party. Instead of being further dissappointed, we headed East. So much for our young men going WEST.

We ended up at Rock Candy which exuded a Bronx meets far out Queens vibe in the heart of the Flatiron. Odd. The music was pumpin' till they broke out the '80s at which point I decided my tired ass needed to head home. The point of this voyage was to showcase for my German colleague (yes, the same one who had never had sushi and will be experiencing Indian food for the first time on Monday) what the nightlife in New York is really like. Apparently, the Party Gods were against us.

However we lost one in our ranks to a pant-splitting episode as we climbed into our second cab for the evening. Poor dear. She gave up and took yet another cab to Penn Station for her long ride to Mineola via the LIRR!