Review: Weekend Of Debauchery

A highly anticipated weekend with the fellas unfolded just the way I expected -- beer and food and lots of childish locker-room humor.

Barry and Zack came in from San Francisco and Jason came in from Cincinnati. Troy lives just over in Bayonne, but the Upper East Side was headquarters for all of us for a few days. A fun time for sure, but let's just say the air quality in my luxury apartment is a little better now that nearly two full days have passed since the debauchery.

After a low-key bite and some beers on Thursday night, Jason and I met the other three early Friday down at what I thought was going to be the uninteresting studio of Alex Grey. I'm typically not into any art form inspired by fantasy, sci-fi, supernatural or metaphysical. But I trusted Jason's judgment and kept an open mind, and it was certainly worth the visit.

Grey's Chapel of Sacred Mirrors offers quite a unique experience. Even though my eyes weren't fully recovered from our walk there -- we got caught in the rain and my unmanly hair product was dripping down my forehead and burning my eyes -- they were well enough to appreciate the tour of the chapel.

After we admired the art for at least a half hour, we spoke to the friendly receptionist, who was rather forthcoming about the artist, his experiences and his work. There was plenty of literature at her desk about various workshops and social events. "We're a psychedelic community," she said, prompting a fresh line of jokes and commentary from her five idiot visitors.

"When's his next party?" I asked.

As it turns out, there are some goings-on this month that I just might attend. Please stay tuned.

So we were way down in Chelsea and trying to figure out where to go and what to do next. It wasn't quite 3 p.m., and we had an 8 o'clock dinner reservation at Sparks.

Four hours later, and about an hour after calling to move the Sparks reservation to Saturday, we stumbled out of Molly's Wee Pub and meandered over to another restaurant Barry was hoping to find, Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles.

I won't even give you the particulars -- we ordered one of everything -- but just take my word for it: If you're with a lively group and you want to spend a few bucks and eat well, definitely hit Les Halles. Especially if Barry is in control of the menu ... and the bill. It was a complete food orgy from start to finish, and the service and atmosphere matched the meal. And the wine. And the dessert.

Saturday was fairly predictable. After consecutive nights of soaking large amounts of food with large amounts of vodka and draft beer, the group was feeling a little, shall we say, sluggish?

Jason and I met the others at O'Reilly's Pub, typically where Troy and I have met when he's had Rangers or Knicks tickets at the Garden right around the corner. This time, though, the afternoon beer wasn't going down for any of us the way it did the previous day. It had to be because of the bar.

So we rolled down to SoHo to grab a beer at The Spring Lounge, and the sluggishness continued. The visit was brief. We all parted ways and agreed to meet at Sparks a couple hours later in Midtown. The service was good, but I've had better steak in more energetic places. Nonetheless, Barry wanted to try it out and he again footed most of the bill, so overall, it was nice to hit three reputable restaurants in one week while he was here. I'd rank them like this: 1) Les Halles, 2) Mesa Grill, 3) Sparks.