The scene: Hudson Terrace. When: Essentially, a few hours ago. Why? To check out the Rooftop ambience. Like most other Gotham club happenings these days (I know, kvetch kvetch), this one was so sanitized on so many levels that simply uttering the word “fun,” (as in let’s have a little), might have been tantamount to screaming “fuck” from the rooftop. What were these people wearing? Why were seating areas near the glass walls marked “Reserved”? Golly, I didn’t see Jesus Luz anywhere.
But Jesus Christ, $13 for a crappy drink? Mine, about as mild as they come (Malibu and Coke) was about 70 percent ice to boot. Charging that much for any beverage, and a lackluster one at that, is outrageous in any economy, recession-wracked or not. A lack of disclosure about the price, beyond greedy. The music? Like the crowd, artificial and lacking imagination. If being boring is the latest New York creed, I won’t take Manhattan, thank you very much.