The last time I was at Rose Bar, I explained to my friends Nick and Garrett, it was for an installment of Nur Khan's Rose Bar Sessions—for Rufus Wainwright— and I ended up passing out early. Okay, so the correct way to say it would be that I blacked out early, waking up on the bathroom floor—my bathroom floor, thank goodness. The same thing happened the time before, when I'd stopped in for a "relaxing" post-work cocktail. Rose Bar is like that: one minute you're discussing the merits of black coffee with Penn Badgley, the next your walking around in circles in the night air. It's as if the place is filled with fun house mirrors that distort reality and fool you into thinking you're extremely elegant as you slide down a slippery, wine-drenched slope. Maybe it's because you feel like you're part of the ambiance, and under the Keith Haring art, the elegance is vodka-proof. A fortress of refinement. Last night, we were in the front bar, curled over a candle-lit table debating the enduring mysticism of the place as Tony Danza strolled by with Alan Cumming. Maybe spotting Tony Micelli wasn't out of the ordinary, considering we'd just enjoyed a show put on by Liza Minnelli herself, kicking off the fall season of Monday Rose Bar Sessions.
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