Monday, August 25

Hobo is the New Highbrow

I attended a “highbrow BBQ” sponsored by New York Magazine this past weekend and wanted to share my utter disgust with you, attentive reader. A $25 ticket allowed you to attend the event, with promises of a “full set” from indie band Islands; free beer from Sugar Hill Brewery from 1-5 and a gourmet BBQ “meal” from Top Chef contestant CJ Jacobson. Not one of these three promises were met.

Let’s start with the beer: it ran out. After about an hour. I guess they didn’t realize how thirsty we’d all be in the 80 degree weather on an asphalt parking lot along the FDR Drive (which, by the way, they dubbed as New York City’s first solar-powered “Green Energy, Arts, and Education Center”).

Left to our own resources, my friend and I were forced to find other sources of refreshment. A half-full bottle of Patron did the trick, mixed with some warm Vitamin Water. Kinda tasted like a Mexican pospsicle. But less delicious.

Next – the food. While I ate my entire plate along with the scraps from my friend, I was really eating out of contempt. The highbrow BBQ consisted of a poorly-filled pork taco, a piece of corn, some watermelon/tomato salad (albeit delicious) and a small peach cobber. I could have ate about 5 of these dishes and still would have been hungry. It didn’t help to see Chef CJ smoking and drinking in the back near the food. I guess you need to numb the pain with something.

Lastly – the band. I’ve only heard a few songs from Islands and they actually sounded incredible live, despite the poor sound system (most likely due to the fact that it was solar-powered – rock & roll is not ready to go green, I’m sorry). When the lead singer shadowed Ray Charles by putting on a pair of sunglasses that were completely white with paint, I should have known things were taking a turn for the worse. But it wasn’t until he stormed off the stage in the middle of a song, leaving his bandmates in a state of bewilderment and embarrassment that I knew the shit hit the fan. If that wasn’t bad enough, his bandmates had to convince the crowd, or what was left of it, to clap and yell to encourage their narcissistic band leader to come back out on stage to finish the set. White boy came back out, didn’t say a word about what just happened, finished the song, and left. It. Was. Awkward.

All in all, I had fun since the weather was gorgeous and it ended with me and my friend getting a real meal followed by loitering on a bench eating ice cream cones. I also learned some valuable lessons:

1. Don’t expect much from $25 in NYC

2. Tequila can be mixed with anything, as long as you close your eyes and think happy thoughts while drinking it

3. People who wear sunglasses (on purpose) that look like as if they were in a battle with a bottle of white-out are emotionally unstable


Anonymous said...

You're just disappointed that the food was gourmet and not fried. You can't eat hot dogs EVERY weekend Dailynuzzo.

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