NY Times - HER studio apartment in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, is just shy of 400 square feet, barely enough room for an Ikea open-shelf bookcase, a chocolate-brown tufted couch, a full-size bed and her brindle-coated Shih Tzu, Charlie. So when Claudia Argiro, 33, gave a holiday party last Saturday night, she pared down her guest list to about two dozen of her closest friends, hid the TV behind an industrial column wrapped with holiday lights and turned the media console into a bar. But one thing she had to have was a bartender. She called up Tealicious, a catering company in Queens, which sent over Eric Villani, a 33-year-old bartender, who was stationed in a two-foot-wide triangle in the middle of the room. For the next four hours, Mr. Villani stood there, not to make special cocktails, but to pour a vodka punch or a rum eggnog into clear plastic cups, trimmed with sugar-coated cherries and cinnamon sticks.

His presence did not go unheralded in the apartment, in a new warehouse conversion along the Brooklyn waterfront, although the intimate cluster of guests could have easily served themselves. “In my opinion, if you don’t have a bartender at your party, you’re a loser,” said Dustin Terry, who lives a floor below Ms. Argiro and said his job was to get models and Saudi royalty into hot clubs. “The bartender brings class and sophistication.” “If you can’t afford to hire a bartender,” he added, “you shouldn’t be having a party.”

Hired help telegraphs a new maturity and polish, said Marc Levine, who runs Premier Party Servers and Model Bartenders, which cater parties in New York and other cities. “You’re bringing your party to the next level, stepping away from the college kegger,” he said, “and actually entertaining in your New York City apartment.” “Hosts don’t want to have to look after their guests’ needs,” said Matt Solan, a bartender who works many such small locations. “But they also want a level of prestige.”

At one point, Mr. Terry raided Ms. Argiro’s private stash of tequila and entreated Mr. Villani to mix shots with fresh lime juice for him. Mr. Villani obliged. “I’m a chameleon,” said Mr. Villani, who has been bartending for 15 years. “I can cater to Donald Trump or somebody in a rock band.”

For Ms. Argiro, it was worth every penny. The bartender added what she called a chic, “Mad Men” vibe to the party. In fact, she said she’d just seen the movie, “A Single Man,” set in the mid-1960s, and had chosen her party dress — a floaty, sleeveless black silk and chiffon minidress — to channel Julianne Moore in that film.

Another guest, Eric Carson, 32, a stock trader who lives in nearby Greenpoint, agreed that the bartender added class. “I feel very sophisticated at this party,” he said. “And I usually feel like a complete dirt bag.”

Serious question, is Dustin Terry the biggest douchebag we have ever posted?   And you know we have posted some unbelievable douchebags in our time.   In fact I don’t even use the word douchebag that often but I just can’t think of a word that more perfectly sums up this douchebag.   I mean I almost feel like I’m getting punked with these quotes.  Like this Times writer is about to get canned so he just made up some fictional character to rile people up and decided to run with it.  “If you don’t have a bartender at your party, you’re a loser.“  “If you can’t afford to hire a bartender, you shouldn’t be having a party.”  …The dude said his fucking job is to get “Saudi Royalty and models into hot clubs”!  Come on!  People like that just aren’t real.  I mean I’m sure there are people that think that way but to actually say it with your name attached to it to the biggest newspaper on the planet?  Nice try Gray Lady.

Anyway this is exactly how I picture Brooklyn in my mind.   I mean everyone knows somebody who just recently moved to Brooklyn and can’t stop talking about how great it is.  Thumbing their nose at you talking about how cheap their rent is and how the culture is just so refined and the people are just so alive.   As if that didn’t make you despise it enough here comes Claudia Argiro with what sounds like not only the most stuck up and snob filled party but also the absolute WORST party of all time.   This chick spent a grand on hiring a bartender for her converted warehouse studio apartment and chose her outfit to channel a character from A Single Man at her chic Mad Men themed party where you got to tip a bartender to fill up your solo cup with vodka punch rimmed with sugar coated cherries and cinnamon sticks.  Sounds like a blast.