two-twenty

social lubrication

You may remember Chris London from the cover of the Times Sunday Styles section a couple of weeks ago, or perhaps from our little expose here at two-twenty. Our crack team of unemployed bums, er, investigative journalists, found that Mr. London, Esq. has popped up in quite a few articles about dating in New York, among them separate features in New York Magazine by Amy Sohn and Vanessa Grigoriadis (for the record, Mr. London thinks Ms. Grigoriadis is a dreamboat with brains and talent to boot, and has less kind things to say about Ms. Sohn).

Anyhoo, as anyone who read our post(s) already knows, our portrayal of Mr. London – although all in good fun – was somewhat less than flattering. So imagine our surprise when two-twenty (full disclosure: the fairer half of two-twenty) received an email from the lascivious lawyer, followed by a snapshot (that we can't, for some reason, un-embed from his email) and then, wonder of wonders, an invitation to a holiday party!

Two-twenty’s spidey sense tingled, suspecting a trap. But when Mr. London insisted, seemed genuine, and offered to comp us (our first press junket!), we agreed. The event was held at a bar located near Wall Street, a place we studiously avoid lest we upset the delicate goings-on down there that feed the pitifully small remnants of our trust funds. There was a dance floor, and a multi-colored disco light display, and “Play That Funky Music, White Boy” was played, we believe by a white boy. We drank, oh how we drank. We met Mr. London, who was an exceedingly good sport, and whose previously demonstrated mediawhorishness and self-aggrandizement were offset and perhaps even overcome by a genuineness reminiscent of some of the best personalities on Average Joe.

So, to Chris London, Esq., a thank you note:

Dear Chris,

Firstly, two-twenty finds we must apologize for the tardiness of our note; punctuality was never our strong point, and our practice of genteel protocol does not always live up to our firm theoretical belief in it.

Moving on, we would like to sincerely thank you (and Murph!) for allowing us to join you and your friends for your “downtown revival” holiday party last week. As we do not frequently (okay, ever) circulate in Manhattan’s “financial world”, it was exciting to see that the New York Stock Exchange is still standing! Two-twenty regrets that we didn’t stick around and get drunk enough to dance, but we know we would have regretted it even more if we had. Your magnaminous attitude in the face of snark (apologies to gawker) is a rare thing indeed, these days. Those who have come before you took lemons and made lemonade, but you went one further and had the bartender make us all kamikazes. Repeatedly.

So best of luck to you, erstwhile lawyer, lover, and liver of a life unlimited. We salute your spirit, and now know who to call when the pressure of dating in New York gets us (well, Alex), uh, down.

p.s. careful with that blog, London. Two-twenty watches and you are liable to get your reputation back!

p.p.s. the verdict is still out on whether or not we’ll be able to swing by the NYE party at the Chelsea Museum you’re "guest bartending" at tonight. Sounds like fun, but Chelsea is so 2001. Regardless, we of course heartily encourage all of Manhattan's single ladies to go tonight, if only for the opportunity to check out the mysterious NYC phenom that is: Chris London, Esq.