Friday night I attended the press preview of what was supposed to be the IT pool party of the summer. Organized by the folks behind 3rd Ward, Danger and others, The Palms is apparently a redo of the Boca Raton Resort Pools of the ’40s, except copy a beautiful resort and debaucherous sexy pool party of the heydays and paste an abandoned bank and parking lot in the industrial center of Long Island City.
While you’re at it take away any inkling of vintage and nostalgia and replace it with three dumpster pools, a food truck selling lobster rolls, weather tents with Asian bamboo mats, astro turf, cheap lawn chairs, a measly string of lights, and a fenced-in lot of hipsters. The interior of the bank turned bar and dance area was sleek and modern, thus pleasing to the eye and the most reflective of a bygone era.
Where they failed to feed my wish to live one night in a completely transformed space and time The Palms did succeed in getting me happily drunk with free glasses of prosecco and awkward lonely dancing on the empty dance floor. My friend and I also played a vicious game of ping pong and pleased the idling crowd (I beat her).
I will give The Palms benefit of the doubt that if you’re going to waste your weekend doing nothing but hanging out you might as well do it here. There’s the food, the music, the skeptical pool waddling, ping pong, drinks, and lounging. What more could you ask for in the waning days of summer?