By the Numbers: Vice Magazine’s 15th Anniversary Party

Ohmygod, you guys! Did you, like, go to the hippest Halloween bash last night? It was quite hip and topically relevant. Like my Hurricane Andrew costume, which earned a few sharp jeers from angry motorists as I marched into Williamsburg for said hippest Halloween bash ever. That is, the much-hyped Vice Magazine Halloween party. If you went, maybe you wished that you instead stayed home to work on your decorative gourds, by which logic, you non-attenders were probably stewing with jealousy. That's alright! Bottomless wells of malt liquor and tequila inspires that kind of seething envy. Although despite the throngs of people snaking around the side of the building and probably into Greenpoint or something, the party inside was filled to maybe half of its total capacity. At best, the occupancy resembled Anderson Cooper's boyfriend's East Village bar on an early Tuesday evening. But it's the recession! And maybe that's the only logic warped enough to justify waiting two-plus hours in line. A recap of the blurry night in numbers, after the jump.

Cost of production: > $250,000.

Number of floors: 2.5.

Total potential capacity: 1,800

Total actual capacity: Far less than 1,800.

Number of jerks who pretended to know other people further up the line in order to smartly jump closer to the front: At least 13.

Forms in which Colt 45 was available for the discerning alcoholic: 3 (mini-bottle, can, and large can).

Portapotties: 6 to 8.

Gentlemen perving on my friends who also unintentionally resembled Mongolian dictator Genghis Khan: 1.

Songs from 1994 actually spun after we got in: 2?

Random articles of clothing discarded on the ground: 5 to 7.

People dressed as Mia from Pulp Fiction: At least 6.

People dressed as Max from Where the Wild Things Are: At least 5.

People who tried to pass off Ellen Page’s boyfriend from Juno’s as an actual costume: Too many.

People who decided that they could just put some generic red dye along their neck in a sloppy way and pass for a zombie/vampire/member of the undead: Nearly every other person in line.

Times I thought to myself, “I may be too old for this sort of thing!” before queueing up at the bar: Countless.