Rejected from Greenhouse!

The assignment: Get into and review Greenhouse, the new-ish club that's been garnering so much attention as a ridiculously luxe yet eco-friendly party establishment (waterless urinals, bamboo interiors, wind-powered appliances, etc.). There was little to know about the place other than it belonged to Jon B. of Guesthouse and Home, and they were never that hard to get into.

So, after dressing in some classy yet casual clothes, a Friday midnight visit was paid. Arriving alone seemed wise—people who show up at clubs solo are usually admitted under the assumption that they’re meeting a party inside. So the wait began…and for 30 minutes the line of two people (me included) never moved. Patience seemed rewarded, however, when the clipboard sheriff finally asked, “Ahem, what list [are you on]?”

“Oh, I’m not on a list.” Often that response just means you end up paying a door cover. Instead: “Oooh, sorry—guest list only tonight.”

Rejected! Since it was my first denial in many years, I took it with some surprise, but also a smile…OK, get ‘em next time. For the next attempt, I tried a different approach—aim for a Thursday. Perhaps on a less marquee night they’d be more interested in filling the room. And when I showed up, there was absolutely no one in line. But, yet again, my adventure stopped at the door: “Sorry. Private party tonight.”

Wow. Dissed again. OK—how about this move: Next Friday night at 2:30 a.m.? That way, the crowd would already be winding down but they'd still want to squeeze some extra cash out at the bar…?

“Sorry. Guest list only.”

The heat was officially on. At this point, I had only two ideas left: arrive with a crew of pretty girls, or play the reporter card and announce why I really needed to get in. So, after failing to rally a group of sexily dressed ladies in time, the plan was to be there as they opened, hoping to gain entrance before any exclusivity became a factor. The first move was a lead-in phone call: “Hello, I’m coming down alone tonight. Will there be any problem getting in?”

“No sir, not at all.”

Good. And sure enough, at 9:55 p.m., your undaunted proxy waited at the door. When the security guards came out, we shook hands as they asked, “And you’re here for…”

“Yes, hi. I called earlier and was told I’d have no problem getting in…?”

With zero expression, the response came quickly. “Sir, the line forms over here. Could you just wait?” (After which, two of the beefy rope-guarders began an enthralling conversation about how many “white bitches were up in” there the night before.)

After waiting on line for about 45 minutes, two young ladies arrived. The doorman greeted them instantly: “And you’re here for…?”

“You, if you want it! [giggle]”

When that repartee gained them access while leaving yours truly hanging on the velvet ropes, it was plain to see the time had come. A phone call was placed to the reception area, seeking the manager...who eventually came out to say they were “an upscale club” and not interested in reviews. When it was mentioned that upscale clubs welcome us regularly, his reply was a resounding, “We’ve only been open two months…we don’t need online coverage.”

Aaand scene. In retrospect, it was sort of exciting to see that the city once legendary for rudely rejecting so many at the door and creating a fabulous world worth cracking was once again insisting that paparazzi and reporters leave their customers alone to do whatever it is they're there to do. (Emphasis on 'sort of'.)

However, if a pretty-girl posse would like to include a gracious male reporter in their next visit to 150 Varick, the help would be greatly appreciated. [Editor's note: Have a club-rejection horror story? Let us know.]

**UPDATE: Greenhouse responds!**

Net results: what folks are saying online...

[CitySearch]: "Although it seems that everyone in Hollywood has gone green, don't expect to mingle with celebs here unless there's a private party. It's generally the same crowd that hangs in the MePa District.."

[The Daily Green]: “Outside Greenhouse last night was assembled the city's regular nightlife crowd, including European and Middle Eastern pretty boys, girls wearing undergarments on top of outergarments, kids in ironic spiked hair and side-cocked ball caps, a woman or two in fur and some dude who looked like Ali G.”

[Shecky’s]: “Will buying a $375 bottle of eco-friendly 360 Vodka land you on the green team? Ponder it at the (yikes) waterless urinals."


Greenhouse
150 Varick St., at Vandam St.
212-807-7000