It began to snow last night as I trotted to the Manhattan bound F train. After transferring to the C (how gross are the C trains?) and hopping off in Hell's Kitchen, I skipped through children and adult chiming, "Snow! Snow! Snow!" to the doorway of the 10/50 Lounge. Inside the Urban Building holiday party was bumping.
An open dance floor and private room sits adjacent to the main restaurant and bar area. The DJ bobbed his head in the corner. Women were drinking tequila sunrises. Familiar faces considered each other. Appetizers drifted around the room on trays. Among the nibbles were standard fair: taquitos, dumplings, mozz sticks.
The obligatory speech.
Earl takes the reigns, followed by Jackie and John.
These are three of my favorite people: sharp, exceptionally dressed and driven.
As the evening progressed, more faces drifted in. Considered the dance floor. Engaged.
The evening shaped out well. I've missed these folks.
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