What's this now? New Yorkers aren't the embarrassing, falling-down-drunks at parties that they used to be?
So alleges Susan Cheever (via Gawker) in the New York Times' week-old new booze blog, Proof (the fact that the Gray Lady has birthed a booze blog should tell you exactly how fond New Yorkers are of their drink right now). Cheever claims that it's been a good decade since she saw anyone get plastered at a party in this sad little town:
The New York apartments and lofts which were once the scenes of old-fashioned drunken carnage -- slurred speech, broken crockery, broken legs and arms, broken marriages and broken dreams -- are now the scene of parties where both friendships and glassware survive intact. Everyone comes on time, behaves well, drinks a little wine, eats a few tiny canapés, and leaves on time. They all still drink, but no one gets drunk anymore.
Hey, that's kind of anecdotal! Unlike New York magazine's recent booze-trend piece, which claimed that the ladies of Gotham are blotto like never before and made us feel much better about our lives had scads of scientific evidence to back it up. So which is it? Are we the perfect party guest (and thus boring and forgettable), or totally fitshaced and groping your boyfriend in the coatroom?
Perhaps the rub is that Susan Cheever just goes to very different parties then we do. (But really, are you saying she's never been on the same guest list as Charlie Rose? Because we have, and while we love him to pieces, we wanted to buy him a cup of coffee. Black.) And so we're saying it here and now: Susan Cheever, you are formally invited to the next party at our house. Don't panic, these are civilized affairs with flattering lighting and Depression-glass champagne coupes. There is no keg. But you'll see: the bathroom tile just feels so nice and cool against your cheek, you know? We're just going to lie down for just a minute, shh. Shh. I'm intoxicated?! Shut up! You're the one's intoxicatated!
