That’s the last time I RSVP with my middle name (a question of perceived race at a Splash Bar Club NYC)

Between 5-Foot 8x6’s retirement from bartending and Dougie Meyer’s open-bar party at Splash, it was quite the Saturday the Ivy League Crew et al. had planned. I was late meeting the boys at Pieces, but 5-Foot 8x6 made me a drink strong enough to make sure I didn’t feel left behind. It was quite busy, so I didn’t get to talk to 5-Foot 8x6 very much. I’m gonna miss his “I’m a virgin!” and “I’m a power top!” and “Hoooooooneeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy!” squeals. They’d better get someone ridiculously fun or ridiculously hot to replace him!

A few of us (MicHELLe, Bootycua, and Bronx Newbie) wandered off to get dinner at Tue around the corner (highly recommended… FYI, it’s BYO!) and after, we stopped by Stonewall (the Stonewall from the riots... you must click on that link if that doesn't ring a bell) to pass some time before the open bar started 11. During this time, I noticed some very obvious physical affection between Bootycua and Bronx Newbie. Did I mention Bootycua was supposed to go on a date with MicHELLe the next week? Awkward!

We finally got to Splash a little after 11, and as usual, we were tossed around at the door from person to person until we finally reached the guy with the list (on a computer). I ran into Dougie Meyer just before I got the list guy.

Me: “Hey, dude!”

Dougie: “Hey, man. You RSVPed to the John Blair email, right?”

Me: “Just like your invite said!”

A bouncer walked up, grabbing 3 wristbands.

List Guy: “Hey! I have to account for those!”

Bouncer: “Well, tell them I took them.”

The two of them laughed to each other before the List Guy turned to me.

Him: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “[Name]”

Him: “Okay, I don’t have you on here. What’s your email address?”

Me: “[Email, spelled out]”

Him: “Nope, I don’t have you.”

Me: “That’s really weird. I RSVPed to the John Blair email on Dougie’s invite. I really should be on the list.”

Him: “Wait, who are you with?”

Me: “Dougie. He’s the one who invited me. I should be on his list.”

Him, handing me a ticket: “Here you go.”

Me: “Thanks. But does this get me the open bar?”

Him: “No, that’s just a comp admission.”

Me: “I’m supposed to be on the VIP list for open bar!”

Him: “Well I don’t have you here.”

Me, walking away: “Fine.”

MicHELLe: “Whatever, we’ll just shuttle drinks to you.”

Me: “Thanks.”

For Dougie’s birthday a few months back, you got comp drinks anywhere upstairs with a wristband, but for this party, there was a designated VIP area for which one needed a wristband for entry. So I was literally left outside, excluded in the most blatant of ways.

TTT: “Hey, you didn’t get a wrist band?”

Me: “No! And I fucking cut and pasted the email address from Dougie’s invite as soon as I got it to RSVP! I’m telling you: they probably saw the name Kareem and did some ‘demographics shifting.’”

TTT: “Wow! I got KennyKennyKenny a wristband, and he wasn’t even on the Facebook invite.”

Me: “KennyKennyKenny is white and cute. It doesn’t work like that for us. Whatevs, that's just the way it goes.”

TTT: “Oh, come on. Do you have the email? We should at least try.”

I pulled up the email on my iPhone as we made our way across the dance floor and towards the door. But at Splash, they yell at you for going out of the entrance door. I went out the exit door, but the side of the foyer that the entrance is on was roped off from the side with the exit. As I walked out and tried to cut around to go back into the entrance door (keep in mind, all these areas are within about a 5’x10’ space), the bouncer at the exit door gave me shit.

Me: “Can I just go talk to the door man?”

Him: “[Name] out here is the door man.”

Me: “I mean the guy inside here with the list.”

Him: “Oh. Okay, go ahead.”

Me, flashing the iPhone: “Hi, I actually found the email I sent to John Blair yesterday to be put on the VIP list.”

List Guy, looking at the message: “That’s to John Blair. I need the email from John Blair.”

Me: “Well, I never got an email from John Blair. But you can see the date on this one. I clearly sent it to the correct address yesterday afternoon, and I’m sure the list wasn’t closed by then!”
Him: "Well, I need to see a confirmation email.”

Me to TTT: “Right. Of course. That’s the last time I RSVP with my middle name.”

When we joined the rest of The Crew on the dance floor, everything just seemed to get on my nerves. MicHELLe and I excused ourselves to the downstairs bar where they tend to play more of the music we like. As soon as I heard the first 3 seconds of Ciara’s “Work”, my drink was gone, and I was ready to ignore the bullshit that happened at the door and have a good night! I even got a chance to give my favorite Splash bartender a wink. My Victor doesn't need his name spelled across his delightfully pillow-like ass for me to pick him out of the crowd. I wonder if he's started making more tips since Jersey Shore started...

When MicHELLe and I came back upstairs for air another drink, TTT was making out with some blonde with a mowhawk. Bottomless Pitt saw us and charged out of the VIP pen shirtless. She planted her feet, did her signature phantom hair toss and cracked up: “I’m so drunk!”

Then she saw TTT and her trick: “Why don’t you two go home!” Two drinks later, we were downstairs, and she was making out with some trick from her past.

I had run into The Sexican, who was the center of her clique’s attention (as always). I danced with them for a while until I ran into the Brazilian guy I’d gone home with after the En Vogue concert in May. Did I mention we hadn’t hooked up since that night? Not for lack of trying on his part. I’d actually seen him earlier getting dragged in the other direction, but this time he was alone. He asked me how my night was going, and I filled him in on the previous happenings. Why did he produce a wrist band from his pocket?!

Damn right I took it! But when he tried to lure me to the East Village with him, I had to let him know that there was no way in hell that was happening.

By the time I found the boys again, Bottomless Pitt had been making out with that trick from his past for almost an hour (the irony was killing me [and I...]!).

MicHELLe and I left at the same time, and she insisted we go to Cafeteria (the sceniest place in Chelsea after 3am… celeb sightings are not-so-rare there) for some mac and cheese with bacon. Of course, I’m still lactose intolerant, so went with something breakfast-y. They were blasting the pop music, so, as expected, MicHELLe and I were singing along. I was facing the wall, and Michelle was facing the scene. There happened to be a cute white guy and his “girlfriend” at the table next to us. As they got up to leave, MicHELLe said, “Yes… I would let him put in IN!”

The guy heard her.

The beard heard her.

Our server heard her.

I couldn’t even see their reactions or that they had heard MicHELLe, but her tragic reaction told everything. Both of us unleashed a shamefully unrestrained fit of laughter.

MicHELLe: “I am so sorry! I didn’t know I was that loud!”

Server: “Babe, moments like that are the best part of my job!”

On our way out, MicHELLe swore she saw Lady Gaga sitting down across the dining room.

Me: “Bitch. That’s just some mildly attractive bleach-blonde with an entourage. Did you look at her face! Okay, that’s not fair: the last thing you notice about Lady Gaga is her face. But I’m 99% sure that’s not she.”

The next day, I sent Dougie Meyer and email stating (much more succinctly) what had happened the night before, expressing that I believed it was Splash’s wrong-doing rather than his. I basically told him I wasn’t trying to whine, only to inform him about what happened at the party with his name on it. It took a few days, but he did respond, saying he’d look into the matter. And nothing may come of it, but if it’s a pattern, people will definitely take notice.

Did I mention that that was the first Sunday in forever that I actually got a full night’s rest (Thanks to spending the evening with Grrber)? Yeah.

Click here to check out what happens when I make the first move on a guy.

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Photos borrowed from thewordwarrior.wordpress.com, Jblair.com, tanbou.com, yesjapan.com, joesdaily.com, towleroad.com