Behind the White Coat

Westside Wednesdays

[ good - spice market - APT - High Bar - Cielo ]

Who says there is nothing going on Wednesdays in NYC? Certainly not me... At least not anymore. My cousin and I had quite an adventurous Wednesday night in the west side of Manhattan, purely random and uncharted. This brings me to a good time for another installment of my NYC restaurant/nightlife reviews...

It seemed like another boring Wed night at work, and I really felt the need to do something exciting, so I called my cousin Amber who is staying in the city for a few weeks, and I said lets just go out and do something. I picked her up and we decided to head towards the west village. I remember my friend told me about this place Good, a latin-fusion type place. So we looked it up in my palm's vindigo, and navigated the confusing downtown roads in the pouring rain. Good was in fact, damn good. A small cozy place, earthy tones, very minimalistic decor with a kind of aztec influenced-new york feel to it. The Caipirinhas and Mojitos were on point. They had this fantastic warm chilli corn bread, alone worth the visit. Latin infested seared and grilled fish dishes, steak with chimichurri sauce, enticing sides including braised artichokes, parmesan croquettes, and creamy corn, with the super-tasty fish taco appetizer. I'd say Good was in fact, brilliant! Perfect for a date or even a double.

After dinner, we had no destination, so I suggested checking out Spice Market. Now it's nearly impossible to get a restaurant rez at this hot hip new meat-packing joint, so I figure we'd slip downstairs to the lounge for a martini or two. The place was huge! The decor was an almost Buddha-Bar-esque fusion of East meets South Asia, with emphasis on deep sexy red tones, and saffron colored 'shalvar-kameez-like' outfits for the waitresses (but more sexy), all very impressive. Upstairs is the restaurant, and a large open flight of stairs down is the lounge, also quite roomy, with these very cool giant-booths in the back where party of 15 or so can sit privately in a sexy booth. The crowd was full of beautiful-looking people. Locals, visitors, and foreigners alike, all out to impress (even though it was a Wednesday!) I can only imagine the scene one a wknd. As for the drinkss, my specialty martini was sweet, fruity, and pricey, but the pineapple mojito was quite yummy (just bring your gold card). One of those "in" places you just gotta go to.

After a few drinks, the fun had just started. Amber had never been to APT, so I said it's down the street, let's check out the scene. Wed nights are pretty good there, very chill funk/soul/house music, nice lookin crowd, not too crowded, with their stenciled like decor, walking into the wed hipster scene--quite different from Spice Mkt. An apartment-like decor upstairs, with the loungey housey scened downstairs. A 5$ cover, but not a bad place to chill without the wknd APT bullshit on a wed nite.

We were considering going home after APT, but walkin towards the car, I look up and see the rooftop of this hotel with people up there. It was the Hotel Gansewvoort .Amber had been there once before with my sister, and I just had to check it out. We go up to the 15th floor rooftop where we arrive at High Bar atop the hotel. Wow what a place! I loved it here. It took up the whole roof pretty much, with an open air balcony all around, and indoor lounge area in the middle. Amazing view, a good crowd, and an awesome new place I'll definitely go back to. I even ran into a friend there out of the blue. And the place was packed! Lookin over the edge with our drink, Amber points out a block away the entrance to Cielo, another hot new club that is impossible to get in on the weeknds. She's jsut like "let's check it out," as a joke. I laughed. Crazy, going to yet another place now?? On a wed night, and Cielo, a full club! Let's just go home I said. 15 min later we paid the 10$ and walked in the door.

I figured since I cant get into this place (at least not without difficulty and a group of hot girls), let's go on a Wed. A 10$ cover, but well worth it. The place was bangin on a Wed nite! A lot of couples out (like many of the places we were at), but overall a good looking crowd. The sound system there is siiiick! Sexy-beachy-house music pounding away, a dance floor in the middle, surrounded by some tables and open areas to hang. The walls and bar surrounded by chill, sexy lighting, just enough to give it a pefect effect. Not too big, not too small, a nice sized place. They even have a back patio that you can go smoke a cigarette on. I can see how this placce would fill up fast on a wknd. If you can get your ass over there, I would def check it out.

Anyways, needless to say it was atypical wed night in the meatpacking district for us, unplanned, uncharted, but yielding enticing discoveries. I managed to get 4 hrs of sleep before work, half drunk, and worked till 9pm the next day (which was today). But hey, the real New Yorkers are the ones who can rage on weekdays, cuz those are the best nites out!! Now you know all that can be done on a single Wed night in nyc, so no more excuses can be made!! If you got nothing to do, it's wed, and you wana go out--Make it a Westside Wednesday.

Cielo

High Bar

Spice Market

26th Birthday at Bauhaus

So the day finally came. The infamous joint birthday party for myself and vinny, part two. Last year was not for the fainthearted, and this year we planned on revisiting the festivities with another night of mayhem and debauchery. This year's vinny-ali bash was at Bauhaus in the lower east side. The place was small, but had 2 floors, and looked pretty sleek. It is slightly remodelled for the better, no cover or hassle at the door, with soulful house music upstairs and good hip hop downstairs. This made our lives very easy, so I was at ease throughout the night--well I guess that depends on your definintion of "ease." Though I gotta say overall, things were under control given our history: there was no cracking skulls, there was no falling on and bruising women, there was no fighting or belligerence. What was plentiful however, was the obscene number of shots that I took.

The night started out pretty tame: chillin in the tiled, bath-house like booths with a couple of bottles of grey goose with NIk G and Stevie Y. Of course, shortly into the second bottle, Manoj (for whom I have obtained copyright privelages to use his real name, and no longer the alias of "white socks") did his part by smashing a glass into one the waitress was holding, but luckily the shrapnel didn't pierce our skin--I knew this was a sign that chaos would soon ensue. In his defense, he did supply some lovely ladies (they had great personalities), refrained from flicking cigarettes on the desi FOBs, and he was the only other motherfucker who had snaps on the goose!

Out of the alleged 109 people who responded to the evite, I'd say about 50 or so showed. Which was a perfect amount since it wasn't too packed, and everyone got in. The ratio was good, the ladies were fine, and the music was bumping. I saw some of the most random people from hs, college, and med school which was a nice treat. After a certain point, the night was but a blur. I can say that I drank a shitload more than my counter part Vinny. Everytime I looked up, there was somebody new with a shot in their hand. I gave up trying to figure out what it was, be it soco, vodka, rum, and i think by the end some fuckers were handing me tequila and scotch. That shit aint cool. The total tally may have approached 20. Regardless, I maintained my composure (well that may be a fabrication, but at least I didn't get sick), and I didn't even need IV hydration.

I will spare some of the censored details (those will be available later in the pay-section of my site.) But from what I have heard, near the end of the night around 4ish, I was quite drunk, and my friends (also drunk) were trying to drag me out to drive me home, but apparently I was having too much fun and was refusing-- however, I have no recollection of those events. Apparently I was also grabbing some girl's ass, kissing my friends, slapping my friend Shwin, and hit my friend Pej so hard in the chest he couldn't breathe for 5 min (he claims to have a welt, but I dunno.) All in a night's work I suppose.

The next day I awoke red-eyed in my clothes, without a cell phone, and a hazy memory. Of course something had to be lost--and if I was going to lose something, the odds favor my cell phone. Though since I am a veteran at losing phones, it really didn't phase me (at least now I can get a new one.) Nobody could contact me for at least a day, and I think an APB was almost put out.

But needless to say everyone had a fun time, and we assembled a lot of friends we haven't seen in quite a while. Everyone was joyful and drunk. Even peeps who barely ever come out, and those who never drink, were actually drunk. I feel honored to have such an effect on people. I also think I smoked only one cigarette the whole night! Amazing. I guess in the company of so many friends, you can't waste time suckin back on a cig. Amazingly, I even made it home for Mother's day. Sober. Somehow even my parents knew about the party (thankfully not the details.) Word sure travels fast! There were a few pics taken from my friend's camera, and I've put a few of them up on an album. I'll find the rest and put them up as they come.

Hookahs at Kush

Ahhh geriatrics.... Another beautiful sunny day, another night out in the city. Although this rotation allows me to relax, have fun, and go out every night, one thing I didn't account for is that I am going to go broke really really fast. But what are you gonna do right? That's life in nyc. I smell another trip to the loan officer! Ahh the life of a med student.

So last night was another wednesday night at Kush (slowly becoming the nyc home-base for Asian Massive) to hear our man Karsh Kale. It was actually very nice and not too crowded, so we got ourselves a nice table between the bar and the dj, a mango hookah, and some goose and tonics. Karsh came on at about 11:30 and fed us some tight beats and tabla fusion. It was white-socks and I with like 6 girls. Not too shabby a ratio. We got through about 2 hookahs and 4 drinks a piece, and of course what night is complete without... A smackdown. Luckily we cracked no skulls on this night, and the only thing that broke was the bowl of the hookah as I reached over to swing around the mouthpiece. The coal jumped off into my lap and my friend's, but I managed to flake off the embers before irreprable damage to my courdroy jeans and smashed that thing like a city roach. Although the skirt of my friend may have faired less well--but one must remember that a night of drinking with us will inevitably involve casualties. Come to think of it, last time at Kush, white-socks knocked over a couple of drinks and almost brought down the entire hookah, but I managed to saved the day, and the impending 75$ penalty.

The night didn't end until about 3:00am with a shwarma and lentil soup from Bereket's, conveniently located around the corner. Although their shwarma and falafel does not surpassour late nite favorite Mahmoun's, it comes in second and has a great Houston St. location, and they will never let you down. After 20 min or so of chatting and sobering up, I managed to drive my ass back to the Bronx and get 3 hours of sleep before awaking to go back to LIJ (Long Island Jewish) Hospital for another day of old people. I was so tired, after morning conference, I snuck out, drove home, and slept until 3pm. Ahhh Geriatrics.

Coral Room and Magic Tricks

On saturday we went to check out this new place downtown called Table 50 to see if it is worthy of having a party there. Of course when we arrived we got a "are you on the list?" It was guest list only for a bunch of bdays, and we couldn't get in. Then we figured we would just go to my friend's bday party at APT--(another hipster joint in the meatpacking district, usually a good time if u make the cut.) Of course the door policy there is quit malignant as well, and despite having a decent guy-girl ratio (usually the pre-requisite to getting into most nyc lounges), at a primetime of 12:30am, we had no luck. So we ended up going to the Coral Room (in nyc, always have at least 2 backup destinations). I realized when I got there that my friend DJ Reach from Wesleyan was spinning there (he kicks ass--check him out at BLVD on Fridays and Coral Room on Saturdays), so we didn't have to wait on line and got right in. Coral Room wasn't too bad a place. A long bar area, a dance floor, an area with some tables, and good music courtesy of DJ Reach. An aquatic theme with coral and live fish all around. The highlight was the huge fish tank behind the bar where every so often you would see this girl in a bikini thong would appear for a dip. Quite entertaining, especially when she later came onto the bar with a giant fishing net jutting into the crowd collecing tips. Al in all a fun night. Though waiting 20 min on line for the bathroom is quite discouraging, and the fact that it was filled with desis. No matter where in nyc you go now, the desis will surely follow--they aint just at Lansky anymore!

But the most entertaining part of the night was earlier on at my friend's dinner party at her luscious midtown apartment. Great food, great wine, with a balcony to enjoy the breeze. So one of her friends had brought a guest--a funny looking guy who was just kind of doing his own thing. Then later in the night before he left, he revealed that he knows some magic tricks and whipped out a deck. Great. Cheesy card tricks I thought to myself. So he does a few tricks that were quite impressive and I became quite engaged. In one trick, my sister put a card back in the deck, never let go of it, and then suddenly it changed into a new card! Then at one point my friend picked a card, he shuffled it back in, and then put the deck on the floor. He then look down at the deck and seemingly made the deck move apart like he was some fucking Jedi. One card remained in the middle, and it was of course her card. No strings or anything. The fucking cards moved by themselves. I'm like, we got David fuckin Blaine over here! It was amazing. We even examined the deck, it was completely normal. He then had this necklace with some chinese writing on it. On the opposite side it had some other symbol. So then my friend picks another card, and it happens to be Jack of Hearts. She puts it back in the deck. When we look up, we realized the necklace has somehow changed. It now says in English "turn me over," and on the back, engraved in the metal, is a J with a heart next to it. This man was not human. Anyway, he did a few other very impressive tricks and it was thoroughly entertaining. It was like a dinner party at Hogwarts. You can check out his webpage here.

From Surgery to Beatdowns

The stage is set with the end of my surgery rotation about 1 1/2 weeks ago (Now this is a key element, because it serves as my defense). Indeed this called for a celebration. It so happened that a bunch of my friends were going to this club called Mission in nyc for a bday party (last time I saw Britney Spears there, so I was game.) We decided that's where the post-surgery gala would go down.

I rolled in with a few med school friends, and my friend from columbia dental (the one with the white-socks) and his columbia med roomate, who I"ll call 'Benz.' We are having fun and drinking a lot throughout the night. A lot. Naturally by the end of the night we weren't planning on any road trips, but we could handle getting our jackets from the coat check and hopping in a cab right? Sort of.

As it goes, I am on the slow-ass coatcheck line at about 3:30am with Benz and a few friends. Now remember, it was the end of surgery and there was a lot of excitment and elation in the air. So of course we got a little carried away and decided to push each other around (all in drunken joy of course). Unfortunately Benz slipped and took a healthy spill backwards (head first). When we got him up, he was gripping his head with blood streaking down his face. I was like shit esse, I cracked his skull! So feeling somewhat responsible, I grabbed my coat, grabbed his head, and we ran out. His roomate was waiting outside and saw me stumble out with my hand on Benz's head, dripping with blood. I'm not quite sure what he was thinking, but he certainly realized there would be no mahmoun's shwarma tonight. The bouncer informed us that an ER was down the block. We decided it wasn't that bad and we could it make it back to columbia med, so we jumped in a cab and headed uptown. I had my hand on his head the whole time, and by midtown it had dried blood all over it (of course I was secretly wondering if Benz is a 'clean' guy.) By about 100th street, I think the bleeding was under control. Who needs an ER? I just finished surgery man, A little pressure, gauze, some vicryl sutures, and we'd be good to go! Or not.

By the time we arrived at the columbia dorms the bleeding had stopped, we were covered in blood, and I couldn't tell if Benz was just drunk, delerious or post-concussion. So then we took a look at the head (The picture is below). The laceration is shaped in a perfect Mercedes Benz symbol (hey at least it wasn't hyundai)-- hence the name "Benz." After a second opinion, the neighboring [sober] 4th year decided he should go to the ER for irrigation and sutures.

In the end he got about 10 staples in his scalp (sounds worse than it is) and had to stay away from partying and physical activities for 2-3 weeks. He was pretty chill about me cracking his head open because it was an accident, and he didn't go thug-life on me. He did complain that I cost him his social life for a month because he couldn't go out. I explained that I simply saved him money. The moral of this story? Don't check your coat in.

Benz's head: