Since its inauguration, I’ve perpetually found myself confused when writing about Meatpacking hotspot Kiss & Fly. On the one hand, they copied the décor and vibe of Pink Elephant disco ball by disco ball and are home to dirt-encrusted outdoor traffic cones and even worse, rumored B&T. On the other hand, Pink was getting old anyway, Kiss boasts an impressive ambiance, I’ve never noticed nor been bothered by the rumored B&T, and what better spot does zone-Little West 12th have to offer?

Often, you begin nights at Kiss in a desolate empty arena. I usually enter the club at 12:30pm scowling, not just because of the irritating, indoor security check point guy whose job is to annoy you into checking you coat. The dance floor’s empty, the tables few and far between, and the entire club resembles the Siberian desert. The only sound is the wind whispering across the landscape i.e. the air conditioning vents humming to the non-movement of disappointed guests. You’ll sit and start clicking on your cell phone S.O.S.ing for alternate plans and somehow, consistently, magically, inexplicably, when you shut your phone and stand back up the club’s transformed to look like this:

[All photos compliments of the talented Emma Cleary and her very large camera]

Kiss & Fly does deserve the award for consistently filling up, usually with exceptional energy. Just don’t expect it to happen before 1:30am. Recently, their Thursday night party has featured a live sax player, adding a dynamic element to the music and infiltrating the soul of the crowd. Also adding to the scene is the cabaret-style sparkle dancers, who pitch in with a dash of sensuality and exoticism.

Everyone here seems to be having a good time…

If someone could teach me how to braid my hair in this Laura Croft meets Tarzan up-do that’d be great.

And perhaps it’s true or perhaps I just like to see it this way, but I always enjoy thinking of Pink Elephant and Kiss & Fly in a kind of brutal rivalry for the same sceney house-music crowd. Whether this is the case or not, I want to know: Who is winning?

I recently found myself at One, the restaurant aside Gansevoort in Meatpacking which is the promoter pre-party dinner hub of the city. To explain what that means, you’ve gotta know that promoters often cut deals with New York City restaurants, bringing their hot entourage to eat for free before attending whatever club they’re herding people to that evening.

Why This Works: A Flow Chart (keep in mind I haven’t made a flow chart since eighth grade):

Generally speaking, it’s a promoter’s job to have hot chicks and guys who’ll buy tables at their beck and call –> For the most part, guys who buy bottle service work all the time (allowing them to afford bottle service) and being hard workers, don’t have a time to socially micromanage a glamorous entourage. –> Since partying at a table alone without a glamorous entourage is considered faux-pas and a major waste of alcohol, the hard workers decide to team up with a promoter who is, for all practical purposes, a species of middleman. –> On the opposite end of the spectrum, those who make up the glamorous entourage most likely can’t afford a table of their own, hence their decision to work with a promoter. –> To further entice the glamorous entourage to come out with them, promoters will offer perks like limo rides or free dinner at a trendy NYC restaurant pre-clubbing. –> Trendy NYC restaurants need good-looking patrons into order to retain their aforementioned status as trendy. –> Since a promoter already has a glamorous entourage that can’t afford trendy dinners at their disposal, the promoter offers their encourage to eat and drink for free beforehand at [insert trendy restaurant here] –> The restaurant gives away free food to the promoter and their group in exchange for what is essentially, product placement PR with humans. –> Theoretically, everybody wins.

I’m sure many variations of this formula exist, but this is its core function as I understand it. Many restaurants (more than I can list) work with promoters in this capacity, but I don’t think any participate as much as Gansevoort’s next door neighbor, One.

One has really uncomfortable seats and tables, insanely loud music, and mediocre food. At some promotional restaurant gigs, you actually see a menu and order whatever you choose. At most however, menus are a never presented and the server just brings out select appetizers and main courses for everyone to share family-style while boozing people up on a lot of champagne. A sample promotional dinner at One consists of:

-Unlimited wine and champagne (dangerous)

-A shared Caeser-like salad (pretty good)

-A shared quesadilla (pretty gross)

-A shared appetizer pizza (pretty satisfying)

-An odd chicken tapas thing (which I think I don’t like) and

-Shared steak with French fries and ravioli for the main course.

Not too shabby.

My qualm with One has nothing to do with the food, but rather the music level, which is so absurdly high you’d think you were eating in the middle of a concert or club, which essentially, you are. Promoter dinners take place at 10 or 10:30 since everyone has to be in the club around midnight. One, which doubles as a bar (hence the importance they be perceived as ‘trendy’) starts cranking up the volume to make the place feel like a discotheque at around the same time the promoter tables are sitting down to eat. You therefore often find yourself in the completely surreal experience of eating in silence with thirteen other people, listening to deafeningly loud party music. Carrying on a conversation is an impossibility and on my last visit, the unthinkable happened.

At 11:30 One went black. Black as in they turned all the lighting off, even in the dining area. The restaurant was darker than the inside of your average club, because at least your average club has fancy strobe machines and an expensive lighting system. Literally, none of us could see. Not each other. Not our food. It was like some creepy horror movie in which you suddenly find yourself at a vampires banquet in a dungeon.

I thought the whole thing was a joke and waited for them to play ‘Thriller’ and then turn the ambiance lighting back up – but no. It was a big finger in the face to anyone who was still eating, and even the non-promoter diners seemed pretty weirded out. I mean, this is New York. A lot of people sit down to dinner at 11:30pm. And I understand that One likes to think of itself as a lounge and therefore wants to create a party atmosphere to sell drinks to wasted people in ASAP, but why then bother having a restaurant?

More nightlife mysteries, unsolved.