La Capitan returns from a 90 day stint at Rikers to hit up the TONY party at the swank A60, covering events that we just don't care to go to.
The rooftop bar was crowded and we may have spilled vodka on ourselves and blamed it on the party-goers even though it was definitely our fault. We were drunk on the Orzel vodka and the stunning view, and not even the attractive bartenders could force us to rip our eyes away from the glorious Manhattan skyline. Times like these we wish our vision would have some sort of panoramic option.
We're not sure how, but Time Out managed to convince some Gawker editors out of their Nick Denton-induced snark spell. Politics editor Alex Pareene and night writer The Cajun Boy posed for a photo with us and we spilled vodka on them, too. We blamed the party-goers and laughed and laughed and slinked away.
When the open bar ended and we charged a drink or seven, the bill was enough to kill the evening. $135 is too much for a hangover of this magnitude—fuck the view.