Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Californians are Creatures of the Night

Last weekend, not the one that just happened (you know how it is) Broek, Claire and a gang of Californians descended upon New York like a swarm of party locusts. I did not realize it until that weekend, but these denizens of the Golden State are no strangers to the obsidian black of night.

Friday night caught up with old Broek at the Noodle Bar and prepared myself for the weekend to come.

Along with Californians, plenty of Claire's college friends and high school friends and siblings of such friends turned out to honor her.
Saturday night we celebrated Claire's birthday with dinner at the Shake Shack and then clubbin' down on the Lower East Side.

Like total ballers we took a cab to Madison Square Park.
You know, I'm always saying this, but blogger just doesn't treat my pictures right. Please, please, click on them to get an idea of how acceptable they actually are. Also, maybe turn up your monitor's brightness?

Approaching the Netherworld...

So, like I said, we went to the Shake Shack and that's where all the reuniting and meeting took place.

Also happening to be in the park that night? My high school buddy Pete, no longer keeping a critic's deep cover. Go Huskies.

Reyn: Californian turned New Yorker.

Do you know what's in that plastic covered box? Those are Shake Shack mushroom bombs, pre-deep frying.

Chris. New Yorker. (Brooklynite, even)

Chris. Californian.

So much beautiful catching up.

Mr. and Mrs. Reyn.

Camille, Californian.

Down to the Subway to find our way to the Lower East Side.

Rice Architecture School-related Pals of Claire's.

Friends sharing giggles on the F train.

I think I spy another dear Californian but no, it is just a blurry phantom of fashion.

Heading down Orchard street, nearly at our destination.

Here time passes in a space too dark for photographs.

...More time passes...

And then...

Like a total wimp I split the club early and walked myself through the LES and Village.

I worked at my night time candid stranger photography, mostly trying to guess distances for focusing and shooting from the hip. Sometimes it went better than others.

Some might say Gates of Hell.

Moss window.

Made some friends on Mac Dougal.

Considered the trucks, wound up passing. My burger was enough.

Home Sweet Home.

I got home around 2. Californians laugh at this sort of early arrival.

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