Back when a latte was just a latte, Andy and I used to head out on the town to introduce the Whynatte to perfect strangers. We’d walk up in a bar knowing nobody, order Whynattes for anybody, convert new drinkers, and leave bar as heroes. It was grassroots marketing at its finest, and slowly a legend was born.

Then came the fame and fortune, and I must admit that Andy and I became a little complacent. We outsourced the blog writing to a blog factory in India, and handed over the latte making to a group of North African gypsies. Andy took a sabbatical to spend time running his family’s electric eel farm, and I was spending my days working leisurely on the cyclorama. While this life of means was great, we both realized that it was time to get back to our roots, and time to get back to work.

So last night, we hosted a party at Park Bench, a bar where we knew very few people. We brewed the 8 gallons of latte ourselves, rallied the troops, and introduced the Whynatte to dozens of new people. I must say, it felt good to get back out there.

Some photos from the party:

…and she flies private jets for a living:

You show me two guys that parlayed an inside joke into full time jobs, and I’ll show you how to handle a live scorpion without getting stung:

We overheard nobody complaining about the bartenders pouring small shots of Jager:

All of the sudden I can’t get the thought of roasted lamb loin out of my head:

I’d pay $20 to know what Andy’s looking at in this photo:

New Whynatte shirts, coming to a thorax near you:

You know you’ve got focus when you can hold a beat, while at the same time holding a beer and being accosted on-stage by a full grown man: