So a friend (who prefers to remain nameless) and great publicist from R.Couri Hay Creative Public Relations, handles Stash, a club I recently completed, and Elsinor, which I am finishing up. I've known her forever and she is the tiger you want in your tank when you need some ink ... press (if you need the other ink ,a tattoo, then Three Kings or Graceland serve me... well but I digress) She pitched and placed an article about me which talks about her clients in Crain's, and that's a big deal. I had mixed feelings about the piece which, while blowing me up as this design hero, brought up my checkered past, including my conviction for being part of an Ecstasy sales ring while I was director of the Tunnel, Club, USA, Limelight, Palladium. It also mentions my year in prison. Some people thought this was an unfair attack, or old news, or unnecessary for the story. A debate raged on Facebook, on my phone, and in emails and among friends about the value of the article and whether it was actually a positive thing. I called her up and she gave me this spin: "Your past has helped shape who you are today, and it's a testament to the quality of your work that you've remained a player in the design industry for as long as you have. Clearly, there's no end in sight." I'm buying into that.

Wall Street interns. Every summer they swarm the city, claiming everything from Tribeca sublets to Upper East Side dive bars as their own. But no matter how hard hipsters roll their eyes, there’s absolutely nothing we can do till Duke summons them back for pre-season. But it's not all bad: no one has more fervent support for the monogramming industry, and in a few years it might be nice to visit their private islands, or at least their downtown lofts with outside space. So follow the smell of Axe to these spots to find a Bud Fox of your very own.

In an e-mail I received on Friday, my longtime friend Friday Patrick Robertson announced that he is “no longer working at The Darby.” Patrick, of course, was the long time GM at Marquee. He's a nightclub manager who found himself manning the helm at The Darby, which is a restaurant, after leaving Marquee and traveling back to his native South Africa. I felt he left the country to diffuse discontent, as he did go from the powerhouse Strategic Group to the 1OAK/Butter crew.

If you talk to any owner about to open up the hottest place in the universe, he will tell you that his place will bring service to a "whole new level," and that very few can hope to understand what he's talking about. For the most part, few really reinvent the wheel. The service experience is pretty standard on the high end. The places that understand their particular niche, and the heroes of that niche, become fodder for Page 6 items for years. The money just flows like Grey Goose from a bottle waitron's skilled hands. The Strategic/Lavo crew do what they do better than anyone. When I say that I don't mean to imply that they're better than the Butter/1Oak crew, or the Provocateur gang, or even the Kenmare/Don Hill's dudes. Each of these groups have their own way of doing it, saying it, playing the game. Each of these groups have their own followings. Now, there's a lot of overlap as the hob-knobbers hob knob around.

Damn Monday nights. A little while ago I'd use Monday nights to get rid of the idea that the weekend was over, and the next one so far away, by promptly leaving work and tossing back copious amounts of open-bar booze at some after-work affair. This would be promptly followed by a barrage of whiskey on the rocks at Lit Lounge, until I would promptly go to bed around 5 a.m. It made me feel better about participating in the workforce. These days, I'm a bit gun-shy about pulling the trigger on a Monday night. It's dangerous when you've got some real responsibility, but I still get a little antsy. So I'm home in my gym clothes, still trying to look cute for my bf, who is clearly more interested in whatever spread sheet he's glued to. Could be work, could be some kind of fantasy football thing, could be some kind of elaborate date plan he's mapping out. Right. I pour myself a monster glass of wine and think about the fun things I could be doing if it wasn't 10:45 already, and I wasn't an hour away from looking decent.

Sigh. Will life ever be the same without Lost? All I can say is: Thank god Jack it didn't end in the dead of winter, New York's barren days of no other suitable distractions. With Spring comes a veritable shift in nightlife. Not only are rooftops reopening and patios getting their shine on, people start venturing out into nightlife's brave new world. For those feeling inspired to jumpstart their social life, there are plenty of new offerings vying to be the jumper cables and a reckless jump into the Monday night party scene is a great way to feel out the buzz of summer while everyone waits for the barrage of summer openings and the usual Hampton circle-jerks. Here, some food and drinks news bites and options for a Monday night party

A casual conversation yesterday ended with much confusion and no conclusions. Is New York nightlife one of the last/worst industries for women executives? I went online and read about progress in the workplace throughout America. I read how the disparity in wages and the percentages of women in management is chipping away at the gender gap. Yet in nightlife the opposite seems to be the case. With Bungalow 8 still closed and not likely to open anytime soon, nightlife’s leading lady Amy Sacco is without a NYC base. And with a hundred joints banging bottles and blasting beats, I can’t think of a single gal running a big show. Ariel Palitz has Sutra, a small but very viable offering on 1st Avenue and 1st, and I’m sure my wonderful readers will tell me about a pub here, or a joint there, but progress to the top of the heap seems to be stalled.

This week the world celebrates the baptism of William Shakespeare on April 26, 1564. He was neat enough to pass into immortality on April 23, 1616. This was actually before my time. I looked it up. Among the many sharp things the famous bard said, this one is found in Romeo and Juliet: “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” With that in mind and to answer quite a bit of my “fan” mail, I will offer that the 14th Street supper club Marc Dizon and myself are designing for Richie Akiva and Scott Sartiano does actually have a name. It isn’t “14SSC” or “2oak” or “Better.” When they tell me I can tell you, I will. It is a wonderful name. The place actually has an approximate opening date and, as of yesterday, we were on schedule. Again, I’ll let you know when I’m unleashed. I was strolling last night with my gal pal and stopped in Butter to say “hey.” It still impresses me. I asked Scott Sartiano if I could tell you guys but he said “No, not yet,” quoting Shakespeare, I believe (or was it Al Capone?) “You say anything and I’ll kill you.”

4 AM is a way of life for thousands of people in nightlife. It is the traditional time that liquor-hawking establishments in NY state must stop selling the booze. Some places have been restricted lately to 2 AM licenses. I wonder if a place that has a 2 AM license could ring up sales on a customer’s card and his liquor could be served and enjoyed until 4:30? I’m going to find out. Although nothing can be sold after 4 AM in our clubs, bottle service has allowed the party to go on for at least another half hour. This means the service employees who make everything possible still need to hang around. One person who can’t go home is the DJ. At this time of the night it’s his job to wind things down so that the patrons can leave quietly. Adam Alpert, Jon Lennon and Jus-Ske have formed a DJ management company, the aptly titled “4am.” I met up with Adam and Jon while we connected with the touring DJ Jus-Ske via the wonders of modern technology. I’ll continue with Jus tomorrow, today Alpert and Lennon have the floor.

Sometimes I make people mad at me. It happens. My editors fume if I am designing something and some other blogger gets the inside scoop first. "Oops" worked once. "I forgot" another time. When you're getting close to the conclusion of construction the PR peeps come swarming in and want to control the spread of information. They interview me or get a few sound bites about design intent and then flitter away. They don’t send me a release or keep me in the loop. I guess they figure I know what’s up. Well, here we are again. A few joints on the cusp of being fabulous.