Halloween is my favorite holiday. Not only because I love scary movies and all that stuff, but because I get to wear a 
bleached blond wig and prance around town like the little hussy I really want to be. Without judgement!
This year, I decided to go to The Grand. The theme was "Night of 1000 Stars " (or something) and I planned to go as Britney, circa 2007. At the end, I ended up going as a maid. Because if you know me, then you'll know that it really is a costume.
So my friends and I get to the club. There's a line. I ask to speak to the promoter expecting me. Of course he's inside. OF COURSE. They're always inside and nobody ever knows what's going on because really, people usually come up to the door claiming they're writing articles about the event just to skip the line. But what's most shocking in this case is that someone did know what was going on. I really was shocked that it took such a short time.
We go inside and meet up with friends celebrating a birthday. They have a table. I'm wearing 4-inch heals and I am pleased I will be able to sit. So I sit. And then I dance. And everything is going great. Everyone is always so friendly on Halloween and everyone is just having fun.
And then my hooligan guy friends get drunk. I guess for them, this is where the night improved. But for me? Not so much.
The Hooligan: Daniel
Daniel dressed up as a grape and that was the greatest costume I saw that night. Except when Daniel the grape decided to walk over the very small table to get to me and accidentally smashed a champagne bottle he was holding over my head. And you know, it wasn't even the shattering that bothered me most. It was the fact that it was half-full and I got wet.
This is the point at which I lost my mind.
So I'm smoking a cigarette. (Yes, inside. I'm a rebel.) Our table is right by the VIP area and there's a bouncer standing there. So he sees my cigarette and tells me to put it out. So I'm like "Someone just broke a bottle over my head. I'm going to fucking smoke!" He looks at me as if I am some deranged girl because he can’t hear what I’m saying. So I take a drag and put it out because I realized this wasn't the smartest thing to do.
I then go outside to smoke. When I try to go back inside, they're not letting people in. So what do I do? I tell them they don't know who I am. Oh, yes. Who. I. Am. Do they care? Well, I gathered they didn't when one bouncer said "Fine. Don't come in." Sweet Jesus! I totally felt like a douche and bowed my head in shame. Then they let us in two minutes later and all was good again.
Back inside, I cut my finger on a broken bottle. A bottle one of my hooligan friends decided to break. Bleeding, I decided it was time to end the night.
Seriously, The Grand is a fabulous place but they really should monitor who they let in. Because while I love my friends, they certainly are one of the reasons the NYPD is so hell bent on destroying nightlife.
A big thanks to The Grand for a fun party.
Some more pictures.
