Saturday, November 30, 2013

A Party At Ryan's Daughter

Photo: The Drink Nation
In early November, I was invited to a party to celebrate the results of a local election. It was held at a cozy bar on Manhattan's Upper East Side called Ryan's Daughter. 

The party was to be low key and mellow, so despite the anticipation of not knowing many faces, I decided to drop in for a drink and appetizer to say hello.

Ryan's Daughter is a neighborhood bar. There is no hostess. But as I entered the small establishment, I could hear people cheering, so I followed the voices, which lead me to the celebration. 

Upon entering the party, already in progress, I was greeted by a lovely woman. She pointed to a nice spread and told me to fill up a plate with food. Even though my invitation said, there would be food, it turned out to be more elaborate than I expected.

I met other friendly people and stood around eating and chatting with them. A photographer took pictures, and my new "friends" gathered around me, and we all leaned in for the photos ... to go into a newsletter I thought.

After a respectable amount of time, I decided to leave. I said my goodbyes, made my way to the exit of the bar ... was just about to step out ... when all of a sudden, I realized I had spent an hour at the wrong "private" party -- as the uninvited guest at a baby shower!  The party that actually sent me an invitation was taking place in another section of the bar -- an area I was just now seeing for the first time. I was momentarily horrified! It was an honest mistake. This could happen to anyone, right!? Yikes!

So I ended up staying an hour longer, because in fact, I hadn't yet attended the party. Even with encouragement, I couldn't eat another bite.

Oh, and can you imagine what the people at the first party will think when they look at their photographs to see a strange woman, with a big smiley face, brazenly posing with their friends? 
OMG!! (Who is that woman! She ate our food!! What the hell!!! Did anybody bring her?!?)

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  1. Ah Debra, so funny! I went to the wrong funeral a couple of years ago, the mother of a friend. Signed the book, took my place, was looking for a familiar face and eventually realised what has happened. It was difficult to find a suitable moment to exit the chapel...

  2. Out in suburbia where I live, they have country clubs (I am being polite, these are "catering halls") where multiple events happen at one time. You can guess the outcome here, I arrived for an event- actually a Bar Mitzvah for some distant relative not even on my side of the family. After an hour of stiff drinks and salty hors d'ouvres and asking myself "why don't I recognize anybody?", the obvious and correct conclusion dawned on me- I had gone to the wrong party!!! I toasted the lucky 13 year old and then made me way to the correct party. But your story sounds like at least you were having some fun.

  3. Oh thank you, Patricia and Barry! So funny. (Oh, the funeral had to be the worst!) Thank goodness, I'm not the only one!