It’s Monday and the subterranean Bunker room was already packed by 9pm with thirsty revelers sampling cocktails such as Bushmills and Ginger or proper Old-Fashioneds and nibbling on sliders, fries, Bushmills birthday cake and s’mores.  A quiet highlight amidst the whiskey-fueled frenzy was a short set by the plaid-clad band known as S. Carey, led by Sean Carey (Bon Iver’s drummer), to promote his new album, All We Grow. Carey took his place behind his vintage Hammond, and after cheering the Bushmills party hosts, (and laughing that he’s already had a few too many, though it’s doubtful since his sincere baby face told a different, more sober, tale), he and the band did a chill, 3-song, ambient-folk set on a red-lit stage. It was almost too blissful of a respite before the dance party began with DJ Justin Miller (DFA) playing electro-tinged, New Wave classics from the likes of Talking Heads and later, moustached Morgan Collett spinning more of a rock set with the likes of retro gods like The Doors.


Party patrons could stick to their cliques or find new friends to pose with for high contrast photos, with prints delivered nearly on the spot and a row of iPads fitted out with contact sheets for guests to e-mail themselves their own photos or post them to Facebook (check out Bushmills’ page here). If you weren’t feeling all that pretty but you were still in the mood to be a ham, props were there for your pleasure: you could hide behind a plaid blanket, fun white guns, black plastic birds and antlers. The prints made for great party favors.

During the night, one of us slipped on the dancefloor and mistakenly “dropped” a new acquaintance (sorry!), then we spotted a couple making out (and more, I think) in a tiny bathroom stall when the bathroom attendant flung open the door. Still another wrote confusing messages on the back of your photos, thinking it would be amusing to write “call me” without writing a phone number. Ah, Irish whiskey antics!--photos by Zabatay

 
  1. Oh. It was a LOT more than making out. It wouldn’t make any sense to note that if they were just making out. They were bonin’.

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