I recently attended the 25^th birthday party of the heir to the Wal-Mart legacy. The invitation was embellished with a green serpentine mermaid holding up a goblet of absinthe. It proposed “a night of mystery in a grand lounge, hidden behind a Chinese restaurant on a long forgotten corner of Manhattan’s Chinatown.” In reality, it took place at the not-so-forgotten, quite trendy in the past few weeks, Bar Apothéke, behind The Golden Flower. There were cocktails of particularly luscious flavors (one infused with fennel oil and another with cilantro leaves), and the space was reminiscent of Fin de siècle Paris.

The company was surprising, as I expected a Wal-Mart-hosted event to be overflowing with shiny men from Arkansas bursting out of their polo shirts and eating Kobe beef sliders, whilst ogling bleached out women in taffeta party dresses. Instead, the birthday boy wore chunky dark-rimmed glasses, a military-inspired jacket, and vintage Nike kicks. He was more hipster-pseudo-straight Yale undergraduate than oversexed Republican carnivore. I felt that at any moment one of the Olsen twins would arrive wearing a plaid jumpsuit. Instead, the most major celebrity present was a former contestant on America’s Next Top Model, who pranced about the room with her Jesus-looking indie boyfriend. There was also a cute bartender resembling actor James McAvoy.

My friend and I left into a torrential downpour and finally found a way home by ducking into an empty parked cab and praying for a driver.

Tweet This Post