My friends, Michael and Zach were visiting from DC on Friday and we stayed-up talking, laughing and drinking until 5:30AM in my apartment on Friday. We met for brunch on Saturday, a block away at one of the last vestiges of the old West Village, Tortilla Flats, for a much needed hangover cure. (No hair of the dog, but the brunch specials are all $8.95!) We got a nice corner booth, some guacamole and chips and then who walks in? Oh, hey, it’s Santa! Oh, and another Santa… and a bunch of elves, and ANOTHER Santa! OH, SHIT, IT’S SANTA CON! Yes, THE most dreaded day –outside of St. Patrick’s Day– on New York City streets. And we were not alone in hating it. My buddies went to the Whitney, I got a facial at SoHo House (saw real reindeer in front of The Standard hotel!) and then ran home to avoid the ensuing madness. There are many places that are not so Santa-friendly, and they posted notices banning the hordes of drunken St. Nicks. Santaphobes!
(via EV Grieve)