We Went to Our First Office Party of the Season!

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In the new pool, there will be no hawks. Photo: Everett Bogue; Photo: Getty Images (santa), iStockphoto (suit)

So, in previous years we made a big fuss over crashing and rating other offices' holiday parties. As you may have heard, that's not going to be as easy this year, now that everyone's canceling their parties. But we are not going to stop! If you are having an office party, let us know! E-mail us at intel@nymag.com, even if it's just a Gossip Girl–themed Snowflake Ball in your cubicle with you and the cute custodian, and we'll come. (Seriously, is anyone having a party like that? We'll bring the Peach Schnapps.)

Last night we went to the Sunshine, Sachs party, which is always one of the most festive of the year. It was at Lucky Strike Lanes, which (along with some place called Citrine) is the PR party spot of the moment. We thought, therefore, that it would be lame, but it was actually kind of awesome. Everyone (read: we) got really drunk on the high-end open bar, partially because we could never find the waiters with the delicious hors d'oeuvre. (As long as the world continues to invent new interpretations of the chicken nugget, we will continue to pretend that they are a square meal.) We spotted Lin Manuel Miranda and Al Sharpton wandering around, as well as a gang of publicists and some high-profile television and print reporters. Oh, and the music was great. Any D.J. that can give you El Debarge, Duran Duran, and Beyoncé in an hour really knows the spirit of the season.

Verdict (Out of 5): Food: 4 (Seriously, those chicken bites! That R&B singer from the McDonald's ads who sings in the rain to his girlfriend about her McNuggets would write a fucking opera about them); drink: 4 (What, no thematic Collapse of Capitalism cocktails?); venue: 5; debauchery: 2; exclusivity: 4 (We hear they shrunk the list this year).