Turning 21 Faster

New York City. The Mecca for the young professional. It’s tough to walk down Madison Avenue on a June afternoon without looking like you’re auditioning for Linda Blair’s role in a remake of The Exorcist. From the expanses of sheep’s meadow in Central Park to the rusty deck of the Frying Pan in Chelsea, women in the city set the bar pretty high when it comes to aesthetics. Many a man has hummed Bruce Springsteen’s “Girls in their summer clothes” as his eyes dance like strobe lights behind the cover of his shades. The experience of a Manhattan summer is augmented only by casual indulgence in a product of the alkane oxidation process - alcohol. Liquid courage, the social crutch, truth juice - call it whatever you will - alcohol typically results in good nights, bad mornings, and occasionally unwanted babies. There’s nothing wrong with conceiving a baby on a drunken night in New York though. You could call it Brooklyn - like Becks and Victoria.

But babies aren’t the point. In fact, we’ll pretend like they never happen. Our story starts in May 2007. I was single, a rising senior, and in Manhattan for the summer. A paid internship was helping ease my bank account off life support and I had an apartment downtown in an NYU dorm on Spring Street (which has since been converted to an apartment complex) with the South Street Seaport a few blocks away. The stage was set for great times; buenas noches if you will. Unfortunately, a minor detail threatened the dream. This was America and I wasn’t 21.

For those of you who’ve grown up outside of the US, 21 might sound very similar to 20. That’s because it is. You’re two years removed from being a teenager but still as uncertain about the future and worried about how you look. In the US, however, this is how old you need to be (at least) to legally buy or consume alcohol. There are a host of issues around issuing arbitrary ages as proxies for maturity - if you’ve ever witnessed a typical 21st birthday celebration in the US you’ll know that maturity is flushed down the loo at some point along with dinner and self respect - but those are arguments that we won’t get into here. Complications arise when you can’t enter establishments such as bars and clubs that serve alcohol even if you abstain. This has restrictive social implications because if prevents you from hanging out with your friends in these venues or causes you to become an imposition on a group if you’re the only one underage. But why, you might ask, is it necessary to open this can of worms? Why go to clubs at all?

There answer is surprisingly simple. Pretty girls go to clubs. You could always ask a girl out to candy-floss or a movie but saying “do you want to check out this cool new club in meatpacking tonight?” somehow has more sex appeal. If the music is loud enough you don’t even have to come up with intelligent things to say. You can nod frequently, laugh occasionally, and mouth the words “Sorry, I can barely hear you” when it looks like you’re supposed to add to the conversation. There is the problem of having to shake a leg every now and then but a crowded dance floor and frequent trips to the bar will keep you from doing the robot all night.

Clubs in New York are unique places in their own right. Getting in to them can often feel like you’ve been invited into an elite society. A famous bouncer called Wass at Marquee, a club on 27th and 10th, once remarked in an HBS case study that he tried to mix the people in the club like a good salad. “A salad with too many mushrooms isn’t very tasty, a salad with too much lettuce is just lettuce; it’s a nice big mix of all the elements that make a delicious salad. So we’re talking about some of the gay crowd, some of the Upper East Side crowd, some of the trendy crowd, a very heavy sprinkling of the model crowd, just so that there’s not too much of one thing”. Unfortunately, from the perspective of the individual waiting in line, you can become just that – a vegetable hoping to make it to the salad bowl. The willingness to pay egregious sums of money helps but doesn’t necessarily guarantee an entry (unless you’re getting bottle service). There are issues around demographics (Europeans definitely have it easier than South Asians), gender ratios, and how much the bouncer’s ego has been stroked that night that need to be navigated. Bouncers are also often pickier when it comes to women. A group of girls are more likely to get in to a club than a pair of guys but the more cleavage and leg they show, the better their chances get. Not that guys have it easy – they need to look well dressed, confident, and ready to buy many rounds of drinks. There have been instances when individuals, both boys and girls, have been singled out and told to wait while the rest of the crew is allowed through. Standing in those lines can do terrible things to your self esteem.

There are ways around the queue. You need to know the promoters. These are people who are affiliated with different clubs and get paid to bring people in. Most clubs in New York have a short life span. They’re difficult to get in to when they open and the hottest places to be seen at. When other clubs open around the block, the exclusivity begins to fade. That’s when the promoters become important. If you’re a part of the promoter’s posse you get to skip the queue and get in just by paying the entrance fee (though sometimes that is waived as well). Alternatively, there are some exclusive social networking sites where you can rsvp and add yourself to the guest list for events that get listed. Finally, if all else fails, you could take it upon yourself to try and carry out a rational conversation with the grizzly bear at the door. It’s usually an uphill task but you need to explain to him why you and your group are the hottest thing since the color pink. Those conversations can go like this:

“Excuse me, Sir” (sotto voce)

No response. Being soft and polite in New York will make people think you’re a tourist.

“Right”. Pause. Clear throat. “Excuse me” (forte). Grizzly turns to look at you.

“Hi, there are six of us (gesturing at the ladies in the group who are conveniently lined up in front) and we’d like to get through the line”.

“So would the fifty people behind you”. Growl.

“Yes, you’re right, but I live two blocks away (gesture at a random building on the horizon) and come here all the time. In fact, we’re celebrating the birthday of one of the guys in the group and I brought everyone here because it’s always a good time”.

Pause.

“How many are you again?”

“Six – 3 guys, 3 girls (gesture at a random collection of people, preferably girls standing in line)”

“It’s going to be a long wait unless you’re willing to pay $25 a head”

“What! Including the girls?”

“Yea, $25 a head or you wait your turn”

“Look, abc around the corner is going to let us in for a lot less”

“Ok. Then go to abc. You know what I said”

“C’mon man! I come here a lot. You’ve got to help me out a bit”

By now the manager has likely picked up on the conversation. He’s the more suave looking guy standing at the door. It’s his job to make sure the place does well financially and he’s often marginally nicer too.

Manager walks over.

“Yes?”

Switch to slightly more pressing tone. Sounding busy or important helps. Either that or you can get down on your knees and plead.

“Hi! Look I live two blocks away and come here a lot. I get a lot of people here too. I brought all these people with me tonight because I really like the place. There are three guys and three girls in my group. Everyone’s single and you know the guys are going to buy the girls drinks and a couple of rounds of shots. You’re looking to make between $500 to $600 on us. He’s asking us to pay $25 a head but there’s no way they’re going to agree. The girls definitely don’t want to pay cover. Abc down the street is going to let us in for a lot cheaper but we’d like to stay here. You’ve got to help us out a bit”

“How many are you again?” Steps to the side. The sum of money just mentioned has caught his attention.

“Six –3 girls, 3 guys. They’re standing right there” Lean in a bit to make it look like you don’t want other in the queue to hear.

“Ok. It’s $25 for the guys and the girls get in for free”

“Look that’s great but it’s still way more expensive than abc. We’re willing to pay $20 and you know you’re going to make a lot of money of us through the drinks anyway. $500-$600 at least. I come here a lot and we’re celebrating..”

“Ok. Ok.” Manager usually cuts you off in the middle of the rant. He’s either fed up of listening to the story or buys it.

“Alright. $20 a head for the guys. Let them through”

“Thanks a lot man! Really owe you one!” pat the side of the arm/ shake hand.

This, or any form of conversation/ negotiation only works if someone at the door is willing to listen. It’s important to state that the bouncer is typically 200 pounds heavier than the average human being and has a short temper. He doesn’t much like stringing words into sentences or dealing with numbers. He’d rather grunt and look menacing. Knowing when to stop trying to negotiate and get back in line can keep your features from being rearranged. Negotiations are also unlikely to work at a place where people in line are ready to pay a lot more. Once inside, the goal, of course, is not to buy the multiple rounds of drinks that were pitched to the manager. You have hopefully pre-gamed at home or a cheap bar nearby in order to minimize costs that night. Unfortunately, girls in the group or ones you meet at the club can jeopardize that decision. Ambition and libido put single guys on the highway to high-expenses.

It’s interesting to study the dynamics of social interaction in these milieus. Girls who are looking to play the game will seem interested, smile coyly, laugh occasionally, and ask guys to dance with them before turning around and asking if they want a drink. The typical testosterone driven male is likely optimistic about his prospects and almost always buys the girl a drink to keep her happy. Another method used is where the girl feigns interest initially until the guy’s hooked. She then lets the conversation lapse to the point where the guy gets awkward and offers to buy a drink to buy some time. A third scenario is where things start off so awkwardly that offering to buy a drink is the only way to salvage the situation. Either way, a young man and his money are soon parted.

Getting back to the story though, I was 20 in New York and watching the summer pass me by. The thought of getting a fake had occurred to me but the good ones were expensive and the cheap ones didn’t look like they would pass muster. All hope was lost until I stumbled on something marvelous – the Indian driving license. The old West Bengal (the state I’m from) driving licenses looked like someone tore a scrap of paper out of a notebook and wrote on it with a crayon. The new ones are fancy. Designed to be smart cards, they have a microchip with the driver’s biodata, picture, and signature printed on hard plastic. They look very authentic and can be used as a form of state issued ID nearly everywhere. The punch line, however, lies in the date of birth. Like other commonwealth nations (I imagine), India lists dates in the format day/month/year. If you were born on December 1st of 1989 it would read 1/12/1989. The US, however, uses the format month/day/year. Consequently, the same date would be interpreted to mean the 12th of January, 1989. Essentially, you could gain up to 312 days based on this format difference using a valid ID. I was born on Nov 2nd – 02/11 on my Indian license. That was interpreted to mean 11th February, which meant that I was 21 by the summer. There are some mistakes that you just don’t want to correct. Buenas noches.


Disclaimer: There are, clearly, certain cases where this won’t work. If you are born after the 12th of any month then it’s going to be difficult to pull this trick off. It also doesn’t work if you go to college in a small town where all the bars have a list of students and their birthdates behind the counter (unfortunate incident). Also, if this format goes against you (12/01/xxxx interpreted as Dec 1st as opposed to 12th Jan) then it’s best to use a US state ID or drivers license that works in your favor. That aside, this should work for individuals from any country that follows the “day/month/year” format and is lucky enough to be born within the applicable timeframe. There are 54 sovereign Commonwealth nations and many countries in Europe, I believe, also use the same format. It makes sense.