Turns out that Abe's co-worker's best friend works for a family with two yachts and they let him take one of them for a bit as a birthday present. Since they are from Chicago and don't know a heck of a lot of people in NYC we really lucked out when they docked at Chelsea Piers.
The yacht was basically a floating 5-star hotel. Two jacuzzis, a crew of 12, a chef cooking gourmet food, and unlimited Dom Pérignon.
Older women and gay men instantly fall in love with Abe when he hits the dance floor.
We arrived around 8pm in our best "yacht chic" clothing, took off our shoes and boarded the ship. From there things got progressively more gluttonous and hazy. I never knew this, but it is very hard to control your alcohol intake when someone is constantly topping off your champagne flute - especially when you are on a 200 foot yacht.
The photo isn't blurry - it is just a special effect so you can feel how drunk I was.
We left sometime around 2am and took a cab home with Sam. I somehow lost one of my new shoes. Good thing they were from Payless (shhh...don't tell the yachties).
Captain's desk - mapping the route to the New World (a.k.a The Hamptons)
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