Dear Scott Gertner,

Just thought I would write to tell you what a wonderful time I had the other night at your club, "Sky Bar." Despite the fact that I never actually made it "inside," my experiences waiting in line were nothing short of spectacular.

For instance, there was a moment, I believe near the North-Eastern corner of the building, when I saw several people exit the club. The smiles on their faces, their drunken rambling and general obnoxiousness warmed my heart on that otherwise freezing evening (seriously, it was freezing). There were also moments when I could feel and almost hear the music pulsing from inside. I even danced for as long as as I could bear to expose my hands. Things really perked up when a car drove by and splashed me with cold, dirty water. For that moment, I was the life of the party.

And when your bouncer (the one with the blonde hair and enormous head) came out after nearly three hours and told us the club had reached capacity and that we should return another night, I was honored to be addressed directly. That's the class and personal touch we've all come to expect from a Scott Gertner establishment.

The only low point of the night (at no fault of yours) was afterwards at Jack-In-The-Box where we had to wait nearly fifteen minutes for our food. Can you believe those assholes?

Sincerely Yours,

Douchebag