I enjoy Instagram in all of its curated bullshit glory, but sometimes doing it for the gram goes too far. Such is the case with Los Angeles-based photographer Amber Asaly, whose friends threw her an allegedly spontaneous birthday party on a J train subway car.
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Asaly told the New York Post that the plan was hatched after a restaurant reservation fell through.
The group boarded the subway at the Myrtle-Broadway stop in Brooklyn at about 10:30 p.m. Wednesday. They assembled a table, hung up streamers and even strung up a piñata, Asaly said.
“Each friend collectively grabbed a bag,” she said of how they got all the festive knick-knacks on the train. “Then we installed the table on the train.”
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Asaly said her party rode from Brooklyn into Manhattan, then stayed on the train as it turned around and headed back.
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She wasn’t exaggerating: Asaly’s Instagram story documented the construction of the table, while she narrates.
“I’m dying,” Asaly says. “I’m literally actually deceased.”
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As her friends and cousin helped assemble streamers along their little corner of the subway car, Asaly says, “My friends are honestly… I have no words. Just wait and you’ll see what’s coming.”
What came was a lobster dinner paired with spaghetti and white wine. The spaghetti did not have a discernible sauce and looked a little dry, but it’s hard to say; there appears to have been some kind of parmesan cheese available, however.
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“Out of control! Out of control! Out of control!” Asaly screams as plates of lobster and pasta emerge from aluminum foil cocoons. She is apparently still surprised that all of this is happening.
“Like…-what?” she squeaks.
The camera pans to the rest of the subway car, where riders seem unenthused by the impromptu gathering even in this blurry-ass screenshot.
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Asaly confirmed as much in her interview with the Post. “They were just sitting there, not saying anything,” she said.
But the party didn’t end with dinner, because what’s a birthday party without a piñata hanging from the subway handholds? Asaly’s Instagram post documenting the party includes a photo of her posing with a Barbie piñata followed by a video of her destroying it with a massive glass of white wine in hand.
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While confetti is a much more welcome subway treat than a river of milky coffee or, you know, puke—someone had to clean that up later. Dining on pasta and lobster was okay, and so was sitting on the subway floor, but sweeping up thoroughly after the festivities were over was a bridge too far. Aight!
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Spontaneity is good for the spirit, and there a few people on the train who didn’t mind the interruption to their commute. Asaly even got a few happy birthday wishes as she exited the train, which, good for her I guess. But I would rather have Showtime dancers—the oft-demonized black youngsters who perform Litefeet and pole dancing routines on the train in exchange for tips—for a couple of stops than encounter Asaly and her crew screaming, drinking, and hitting a piñata through two fucking boroughs. Take a guess at which one gets more shit from the Post.
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