2009 MurphGuide Party Criuse

Picture yourself on a boat with a cocktail. On the last Thursday of August comes what is easily one of my favorite parties of the year


Picture yourself on a boat with a cocktail

August 27, 2009: Was that Elmo, Dora the Explorer and a tranny walking up 42nd Street? Damn, I’m on the bus and I can’t get my camera out in time. Oh well, I think this is a sign it’s gonna be a good night.

I stroll past the gate of World Yacht Marina at Pier 81 in NYC, on my way to meet up with Sean Murphy and the MurphGuide crew. The smell of high class old people in front of me as I walk. They’re not with our party.

On the last Thursday of August comes what is easily one of my favorite parties of the year. What’s this? A Hawaiian theme? As luck would have it, instead of one of my signature ugly shirts, I chose to tone down to a gray murmur.

As revelers arrived, they were handed an assortment of leis. During a huddle just prior to boarding, the color codes were explained to the welcoming committee. That did not seem to set. Most people insisted on simply getting the lei that best matched their outfits. Some, simply went without.

The folks from Tommy Bahama Rum served up some tasty sweet concoction that pretty much had me on my ass after a while. Thank God for the hot buffet to keep my stomach safely full thru the night. Large buckets of cold cans & bottles were scattered about the boat so beer drinkers didn’t get trampled by those sidling up to the open bar for some hard liquor poured strong.

When my inner gyroscope was lubricated just enough to steady my step on the waves, I took out my camera again and started to shoot. I noticed these three girls dancing and generally having a great time. Dressed similarly, I assumed they worked for someone here. Servers maybe? As I turned my lens in their direction, they stopped on cue to strike a pose. No, these girls were performers.


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The call themselves Buffalo Stance. Their show is very simple. Three sexy girls singing 80’s dance hits. This is not something I normally go in for. Many a line has been written here on my general dislike of cover bands. But, I am a guy and, like other guys in the room, I found myself enjoying the show.

We are simple creatures. That’s not to downplay the talent of these girls in any way. They did a fine job of singing and dancing, two things that I cannot do. Plus they know how to pose. For a guy struggling still to get this camera thing to take good shots, it helps when I don’t even have to try.

After a few more tropical cocktails and pleasantries, the boat docked and I was swiftly shanghaied. Well, wait. That would indicate being placed on to a boat. This happened to me getting off the boat. Oh well. whatever the equivalent…

At first when my new Irish buddies Chris and Finn told me to get in the cab, I was confused but willing. Then I heard them say in their thick accents, “aytee terd an’ terd.” Shit! Now I know there were three after parties I could have chosen. Two were far away, one was very (and I mean very) close by. I didn’t want to be a dick and hop right back out of the cab, so I just sat back and enjoyed the ride — and the thoughts of my long commute home later.

Once we got to The Gael Pub (1465 3rd Ave, NYC), I felt a little more at ease. Great pints and great people from the cruise. I could’ve done without the cover band. Making up words to Santeria — a song I hate anyway — c’mon! The bass player’s fret board lit up. That was kinda cool. And they had a red balloon for thrir rendition of 99 Luft Balloons. 98 more and it would have been just right.

The night ended with one last pint at The East End Bar (1664 First Ave, NYC) where makeshift beer pong tables hovered over soaked tile floors. I’ve never been one to go in for drinking games. I prefer to drink my drinks. However, I never really appreciated the genius behind this phenomenon of beer pong. The bar sells a pitcher that for the most part does not get drunk.

The (usually cheap) beer is poured into a number of plastic cups arranged at either end of the table. A ball is tossed. If it lands in one of your cups, you drink whatever hasn’t spilled. Most of the beer ends up sitting in the dirty cups or trickling on to the tables and floor.

Getting home in a haze of tired contentment would involve two trains and a taxi somewhere around 3:00 AM. I was home by 4:00 AM, but that is the extend of my memory of the journey. The next day was spent in happy recovery. Thanks to MurphGuide and everyone I met for yet another fantastic party.

See Also:
Photo Gallery
MurphGuide
Gael Pub
The East End Bar & Grill


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