Hopefully this is just bad satire. But probably not.. From the New York Times via Kathryn Lopez and National Review Online:
33-year-old Claudia has little room for furniture but her holiday party had to have a bartender. Had to. From the New York Times:
I hope everyone had a good time. But I hope they have opportunities to see outside the warehouse conversion in Williamsburg. It might put a rum-eggnog-in-plastic-cups-bartender-by-the-Ikea-bookcase in some perspective! Not to mention the 32-year-old fella, a stock trader, who told the Times what the bartender meant to him:
33-year-old Claudia has little room for furniture but her holiday party had to have a bartender. Had to. From the New York Times:
...one thing she had to have was a bartender. “I’m an adult now, living by myself, and this is my sh-bam, my moment,” said Ms. Argiro, who runs a clothing boutique nearby called Charlie and Sam.
She called up Tealicious, a catering company in Queens, which sent over Eric Villani, a 33-year-old bartender, who was stationed in a two-foot-wide triangle in the middle of the room. For the next four hours, Mr. Villani stood there, not to make special cocktails, but to pour a vodka punch or a rum eggnog into clear plastic cups, trimmed with sugar-coated cherries and cinnamon sticks.
His presence did not go unheralded in the apartment, in a new warehouse conversion along the Brooklyn waterfront, although the intimate cluster of guests could have easily served themselves. “In my opinion, if you don’t have a bartender at your party, you’re a loser,” said Dustin Terry, who lives a floor below Ms. Argiro and said his job was to get models and Saudi royalty into hot clubs. “The bartender brings class and sophistication.”
“If you can’t afford to hire a bartender,” he added, “you shouldn’t be having a party.”
I hope everyone had a good time. But I hope they have opportunities to see outside the warehouse conversion in Williamsburg. It might put a rum-eggnog-in-plastic-cups-bartender-by-the-Ikea-bookcase in some perspective! Not to mention the 32-year-old fella, a stock trader, who told the Times what the bartender meant to him:
Here's a thought. You're usually right. And as for your feelings... well, you're wrong. You're just being your usual self portraying your usual values. Poltroon.“I feel very sophisticated at this party,” he said. “And I usually feel like a complete dirt bag.”
Geez, I'm ready to split the Union and let the über-liberal, über-pretentious, über-morons on the coasts go their own way while the rest of us in Fly-Over Country try to repair and maintain America as we like it.
Places like Berkeley that just passed a resolution calling the Wikileaker, PVT Bradley Manning, a "hero" shouldn't be allowed to sully the memories of those who've built this country and who've died protecting it.
Heh. Let's be sure that none of these people are ever invited to any of our parties. Especially our Celebrating the 2nd on the 4th, and what I'm thinking we should have starting Jan 1 - Celebrating the 2nd on the First party.
But dahrling, PLASTIC cups!
'Nuff Said
Tom
Poseurs. The lot of them. I bet they don't wash and reuse the plastic cups either.
From a practical point-of-view, the money spent on the bartender could've be directed to more and better booze or food.
*ducking and running*
Seems like peer pressure doesn't end after high school. My bartending is juice or soda on the rocks, help yourself and let me know if I have to run to the store.
Speaking of bartending and potables, there is a massive storm front that y'all have prolly gotten, and we will be getting, so it is time to run to the store for milk and cat food.
www.youtube.com/watch
Cheers
fd, I'd draw two lines one about 30 miles north of SF bay, and the other about 30 miles north of Monterrey. I would ethnically cleanse the moonbats north of the first line to the Canadian line and south of the second and force tham all into that small area in central Cali and give them the keys to their new country and say good riddance to bad rubbish.
Bill, I seriously doubt Spock's'splainin got him past St. Peter. I rmember my mother telling me that her and my father laughed at Spock's ramblings.