NYCC 2017 Afterparty Disaster: The Warehouse Of Horrors

Adam Wolfe reports from NYCRavers’ New York Comic Con afterparty:

One of my favorite things about New York Comic Con is the amount of awesome, nerdy, fun afterparties that pop up all over the city. Every year I go to at least one of these raves or bar parties, and give my feedback on how the party was — so the next time you’re looking for an NYCC afterparty, you have some basis on who throws good ones, and who throws bad ones.

This was one of the bad ones.

NYCRavers is an event production company based in — you guessed it — New York City. What they offer is fun EDM events catering towards a nerdier crowd. They have featured events such as a Samurai Jack/Samurai Champloo/Afro Samurai rave, and an Akira-themed rave recently — both of which I attended with much merriment. So when I saw they were throwing a party for NYCC, I decided to put my faith in them and expect a killer time. What they advertised was a seven-room venue, which would be lined with artwork, as well as interactive displays such as a ‘Zelda Lost Woods’ and a ‘LED Castle’. I was sold.

The day before the event, NYCR posts on their Facebook that due to a “breach of contract”, the venue will be changed — but worry not, they secured a 10,000-square foot warehouse to rave in. I’m no stranger to the NYC rave scene, so I was perfectly OK with this. Stupid, stupid me. I didn’t think about the logistics of switching a venue that quickly. Once again, I put my trust in them.

This venue was in deep Brooklyn. To put it in perspective to non-New Yorkers, the Uber to get there cost me $35. Whatever; I was ready to rave. I had my costume on, I had a spring in my step, and a song in my heart. When the Uber pulled up, a group of guys told me to turn back. They warned me as they pointed to the building, “That ain’t where it is; you need to go through that massive truck yard. Go try to get your money back.” I wanted to believe. I shook my head as I walked through what seemed to be an endless sea of semi-trucks. “This is gonna be cool,” I told my friend. “They won’t let us down.”

They did. They let us down hard. Standing in line, I knew the vibe was off as the guy behind me repeatedly hit my hat, shocked that I was dressed as something nerdy for a cosplay rave. He didn’t stop until I had to threaten him. Fun times. What was promised as a warehouse, was the hallway of a warehouse. One stage, no room to dance, surrounded by wooden packing pallets and boxes of lord knows what. I walked the 20 yards across the dance floor and found myself standing outside looking out to the water. I was surrounded by about 40 people smoking cigarettes in silence.

That was when I called it a day. I turned and demanded my refund, which was given to me at a snail’s pace by the guy running this slovenly, pathetic excuse for a party. As I’m waiting for his architect, dilapidated phone to load my PayPal information, a girl asked him where the bathrooms were. “Oh, we haven’t set that up yet.” No bar, no bathroom, but you made sure to hang up the doodle of Kirby your little brother looks like he drew at recess. Sweet. Only until the woman threatened to urinate on the floor in front of him was action taken.

While I was waiting for my refund, some of the guys working the party started coming in with cases of Coors Light. No amount of Coors Light could have saved this. All I could think was, “Could these people have the audacity to charge for those beers?” I wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

Finally, as I went to exit, the man begged me to stay, as he suspected cops were outside. “Just give it a few minutes,” he requested. To my swift rejection, he said, “OK, well can you at least take off your hats and glow sticks?” I offered him a series of expletives, unlocked the door, and took my leave. As I was halfway through the field of trucks, I saw an NYPD squad car headed straight for the “party”. Nothing like getting your party busted like you’re in high school, and paying $25 for the pleasure.

This entire series of events was unacceptable, and ultimately very damaging to NYCR’s reputation. Yes, they refunded me without a fight, but that isn’t the point. The guy almost made it seem like he was doing me a favor for the refund.

Once that venue was changed, they should have canceled the event and automatically refunded everyone. Instead, they tried to salvage what they could in 24 hours and ended up wasting more of their patrons’ time and money. The entire event was despicable, and not what was advertised. I don’t want to come off as a diva, as I have certainly been to sketchier venues and events than this — but it wasn’t what I paid for, wasn’t what I wanted, and wasn’t what I expected.

Think twice before going to an NYCRavers afterparty. 0/10. I should have just gone to Sonicboombox, but nope, I just had to be different.