Thanks to an unsettling, death-tempting cab ride, I was slightly ill-at-ease when I arrived at Poets House on Spring Street last night. But after a few plastic thimbles of wine, I was "good to go," as they say. Some smarter guests--namely our in-house, co-host patriarch--smuggled deli coffee cups into the party (all the better to get loose); and though he once praised the saying, "I don't dabble in people," dabbled quite happily with a number of tweed-clad, old men with loaves of bread tucked under their arms.
I, on the other hand, tried to play it cool, resisting urges to be vulgar, and alternatively, obsequious--behavior only acceptable in the company of strippers, and these people were definitely not strippers. In the end, I got a little tipsy and chatted up some co-workers.
Yeah, the image is awful, but that's kind of how I remember it. I'm looking forward to returning for the Poets House Showcase-20th Anniversary-Birthday Cake Bash, April 1, and to paying some more attention to their comprehensive (45,000 volumes open to the public) and nicely displayed collection of poetry. Lots of cool stuff on the shelves.
Thankfully, there was little in the way of formalities. Two people spoke into a microphone to thank everyone and talk about the upcoming move in 2007 to a larger space in Battery Park. People looked on through their horn-rimmed specs and nodded. It was good to be alive.
The hors d'oeuvres were provided by Balthazar Restaurant and consisted of things I don't normally think to eat (except for the bread and cheese--that was good). I also came away with lots and lots of poetry links, resources, and information--all of which I will share on this blog later on today. Really, looking back on the whole evening, I'm just glad this guy wasn't there.
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