The hottest spot on New Year’s Day in Hoboken was Bagels and Bloodies. This party had everything: a horse head, pole dancing, midgets, crack served on platters, a Chihuahua, a disco ball, crazies, foreigners in hot pants, pearl necklaces, frosting, somebody’s mom, townies, a child, high kicks, chants of 245, babes on steroids, and a Viggo Mortensen look-alike mixing up drinks. There was no cover as long as you said the password, Muppet, at the door in a high-pitched voice. Note: Sincerest apologies to Saturday Night Live’s city correspondent, Stefon.
Making champagne toasts and kissing at midnight, forgetting all of the lyrics past “Should old acquaintance be forgot,” and resolving to be the best versions of ourselves are all typical rituals associated with closing out a year and starting anew. For the past five years, I have taken part in a different ritual on January 1st: Bagels and Bloodies with entourage welcome at Margaret Mallan’s chic Hoboken townhouse. Like the actual meaning of the Scottish song, “Auld Lang Syne,” Bagels and Bloodies is a call to remember and a time to celebrate long-standing friendships. Thanks, Maggie, for throwing the best party of the year! Ok. It’s been the *only* party of the year so far, but who’s keeping track? I resolve to do my part to make Bloodies and Bagels 2013 even more memorable if that is even possible.
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