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While you were sleeping

April 15, 2013

Welcome to City Paper’s new occasional nightlife blog, While You Were Sleeping. We’ll be poking our noses into underground parties, text message-invite speakeasies, and the general unseen madness that goes on when most of Charm City is snoozing.

Rubber monkeys, glowing grasshoppers, and reel music.

It’s around midnight and I’m almost hit on the head with a rubber monkey which was stabbed with a key and dropped from a fourth floor apartment window.

“Come up!” yells a guest from the window of one of the most sought after cocktail parties of the season.

Inside, the crowd at Kevin Blackistone’s Charles Village apartment has packed two rooms, a balcony, and part of the narrow hallway.

He’s has been hosting these invite only cocktail parties since college, he says as his vintage reel-to-reel tape player oozes soul music throughout the apartment.  In his light Western shirt, bolo tie, and gray two piece, the Red Emma’s family member (and winner of “Best Campaign for Best Baltimorean” in 2012) keeps one eye on the small but stocked wet bar and the other on his guests who cram the balcony trying to get a peek at the amazing view of the city. The guests include art scene maven Priya Bhayana who’s sporting a yellow swath of crisp silk around her neck, a dapper Vijay Iyer in his open silk shirt, scarf and fedora, a hip Washington lobbyist in pushed-up-sleeve, 80s chic and a smattering of OG Wham City kids all done up as per the host’s formal dress code.

“I’ve continued the dress code for entrance policy to an extent, primarily when living at The Penthouse, partly because of tradition and also it keeps the size of the party down to those friends who care,” says the host. Blackistone’s cocktail parties have been a secret must attend event since he and his roommate Iyer hosted them at their penthouse apartment in the Copycat a few years back. His guests prepare their own cocktails, unfortunately for the guy who ended up with his date giggling at his failed radioactive looking grasshopper, but he provides the libations. Blackistone finishes off his sidecar and disappears into the kitchen to replenish the hor d’oeuvres. To get in, you have to know someone and then you need to dress sharp. So start asking around as he’s already planning a summer party.

Sorry Monsieur, your penis is not welcome.

Over two-dozen fans and friends gave a huge “yay” to BOPA’s artistic director and photographer (and former CP designer) Jim Lucio and his partner, artist Jeremy Crawford as they prepared to tie the knot next week with dueling bachelor and bachelorette parties.

We hear the bride’s crowd was asked to leave a high altitude bar/restaurant because the bachelorette’s hot pink penis piñata was not on the approved guest list. Meanwhile, the bachelor party which, full disclosure, this writer was a part of, settled for flirting with dancers and denizens of The Block down at the Midway Bar before colliding with the bachelorette’s crew at Club Hippo in a huge splash of Rainbow Brite head pieces and whistling penis necklaces. The Hippo crowd weathered the storm of the soused bachelorette’s karaoke version of Billy Ocean’s “Get Out of My Head and Into My Car” but was treated to a ballsy, brassy, rendition of “Don’t Tell Mama” from “Cabaret” by actress, Danielle Robinette.  If this is the new standard for gay bachelor and bachelorette parties, I’m in!

Nightlife app of the week:

Who’s playing at the Metro on Saturday night? Ottobar? Coward Shoe? I don’t know, but I tell you who does. The folks who put together the music app, Timbre. This gem of a reference will let you see and HEAR who’s playing where based on your GPS. Trust me. You need this. Great interface, beautiful to look at and is available for both Android and iPhone platforms.

Next week: Balls and Blunts.