At 5:15 p.m. on a chilly Thursday, Jamey Fader, clad in black, with a plaid cap pulled low over his forehead, is balancing on a box in the corner of a back-alley warehouse. "Welcome to whatever the fuck this is," he deadpans. It's Fader's first impromptu speech of the night, the one where he makes it clear that if you aren't here to have a good time, you've come to the wrong party. "The idea is to have fun. Tonight we get to leave behind the grease traps, the three dishwashers that didn't show up at our restaurants and the server who's probably getting knocked up in the... More >>>