Bash Compactor: Always on Sunday

When it comes to partying hard, Friday and Saturday are for amateurs, but Sunday night is for pros. If you’re out past 3 a.m. on a Sunday before the sickening regularity of the 9 to 5 starts all over again, you know it’s a good party. Well, last week I went to Alphabet Sundays at Arrow Bar despite an overwhelming urge to stay home. And once I got there, I didn’t wanna leave.

Our hostess was Demanda Dahling (AKA Thomas Bistritz), author of the raunchy memoir Don’t Piss In My Martini, Please. Most of her getups are outrageous, but her signature look is whiteface and some red-and-black far Eastern drag number. “I was a shit storm this weekend during my performance,” she admitted. Demanda and shit storm often go together. About 20 club kids traveled by drag van to Poughkeepsie the day before to perform at Primetime, organized by promoter and makeup artist Isis Vermouth, Sunday night dressed as a boy. As we did a little can-can out on the floor, Isis told me, “You’re a wild woman!” Like that’s news!

If you like to let it all hang out, this is your party. Arrow’s smallish, an old-fashioned subterranean dive bar with tin ceilings (the space has housed a number of places and was most recently Big Lug, a bear bar). Follow the neon arrow pointing downstairs to a room boasting a few booths and an intimate lounge area perfect for misbehavior. No cover, cheap drinks, go-go boys. What’s not to like?

Let’s not forget the music. Seth Clark Silberman, a dynamo known as PhDJ, really does have a Ph.D. in comparative literature from the University of Maryland. He taught for a year at Yale and one at Emory. “There weren’t any jobs this year,” he confessed. Meanwhile, not only is he smart but he was spinning some badass tunes, a selection of electro, dance, house and techno.

“Hey, how are you?” a leather-jacketed guy slumped at the bar called out as I walked by. I wasn’t sure who the hell he was. Should I lie and pretend I recognized him or just confess?

“It’s Nicky Paraiso!” he exclaimed. The long-time curator from La MaMa Experimental Theater Company on East Fourth Street was chilling. “Sorry, Nicky. You look so hot!” I told him, a backhanded compliment. Daniel Allen Nelson, performing this week at La MaMa, was sitting with him. “Come and see my show,” he cajoled.

Alphabet Sundays starts cooking around 11 and then the hard-core partiers often end their evening at Van Dam. But tonight at 3 a.m., we weren’t going anywhere. When the going’s good, stick around.