Way way way back, me and some middle school buddies decided we needed to prove our masculinity by grilling some meat. Since we didn’t have grills, or places to grill, we bought some $20 jam and brought it to the empty lot by my place. At the time, DUMBO was empty as all hell and cracked-out lots where a dime a dozen.

What started as a stupid middle school get together ended up being my longest-running party “Hot at the Lot” which was pretty much the same deal all the way til the lot got bought: You bring the beer, I’ll bring the boombox, and make sure the cops don’t see you when you go through the fence.

We left a cheap potable charcoal grill in that empty lot for years, and one year, it wasn’t there anymore so we threw the coals under a chainlink fence that had fallen over and grilled hot dogs on right on the fence. Keep in mind, most of these parties happened while my contemporaries and I were very very young. Like, 14 years-old kinda thing.