It’s official—I have been to the Hamptons. Sound the trumpets, start the parade. After living in New York for almost three years, I’ve somehow managed to sidestep that end of Long Island, a feat made even more unbelievable considering my job has me fairly familiar with what’s going on out there. (Come to think of it, being fairly familiar with what’s going on out there might actually be the reason I’ve never been.) But you have to crack at some point, so when a friend decided to have her bachelorette party in Bridgehampton, I figured a midsummer visit was finally in order.

One Jitney journey later I was in the rarified air. We all gathered at the hostess’s house—light, bright, airy, beautiful, complete with pool—and hung out, cooked dinner, and opened the requisite lingerie gifts. (Believe it or not, not a penis straw or suck-for-a-buck T-shirt in sight.)

Then we went out. Pink Elephant, specifically, where mere weeks before Jessica Simpson and Zach Braff had been canoodling in a cabana. No celeb sightings this round, and we didn’t get a cabana, but we did stake out a plot, put a tiara on the bride to be, order copious amounts of vodka and Champagne, and make nice with a group of cute guys sitting nearby. Of course we also got attitude from the bouncers, watched overly tanned middle-aged men haggle over dance-floor bracelets (“No need to say ‘fuck,’ sir,” said one wearied server), and witnessed lines of hopeful partiers all trying to gain entry to a club located in, essentially, the middle of nowhere. But it was a night out in a new land and everyone had a great time.

The next morning included a whole lotta lounging in the sun, dips in the pool, and US Weekly perusals. I used to be a lifeguard, and there’s a moment every summer where I want nothing more than to sit by a pool in a bikini for the entire season. This was my moment. (Sadly, I forgot that the moment also called for sunscreen, which resulted in a bright-red, stomach-to-back swath of sunburn.)

So I survived the Hamptons. I don’t think I heart the Hamptons just yet—and, given my track record, I probably won’t be back for at least another three years—but the introduction has been made. We’ll see if the relationship goes anywhere.

Share This

This entry was posted on Monday, July 17th, 2006 at 9:01 am and is filed under Friends, Hamptons, Beach. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.