I can't get any party pictures off it until I get back to LA or receive them from others.
So...I guess we'll start with pictures of the aftermath, taken at crappy quality with my pathetic little cell phone camera.
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On Fire Island, we stayed in a quiet little community called Kismet.
Kismet only has one tiny grocery store, one small restaurant - The Out, and another, bigger restaurant - The Inn, which also serves as the local bar and Saturday night gathering place for the entire community.
There are only walking paths and bikes on F.I., which you have to make a 3 hour trek via car/train/boat to get to.
Once you're there, though, it's so peaceful and relaxing that you forget that the rest of the world even exists.
Peaceful, I mean, until it gets invaded by The Hoochies...
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The eight-bedroom house we rented was called Lovers & Other Strangers. Over the weekend, we learned from many locals that the house was pretty notorious and had a reputation for being a crazy/sexy party house dating back to the days of Studio 54.
We awoke on our final morning (Sunday) to find our house a mess of broken glass, paper plates, and wounded soldiers.
How did this all happen? You'll have to wait to find out.
Maybe.
(Still debating whether what happens on Fire Island stays on Fire Island...)
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For hangover breakfast we hit up The Inn for buffalo chicken wraps.
It was hard to imagine that the quaint little restaurant/bar had been packed just a few hours prior with the most random sweaty mix of locals and visitors, all wastedface and dancing their bottoms off to a live local band playing classic hits.
After lunch we dehangoverized with one of the best beach days ever.
But before long, it was time to say goodbye...
Great place. Great time.
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