Romance Under the Stars at the Hayden Planeterium

The fault lies not in our stars…
… but in the horrendous staffers of the AMNH for «romance (frustration) under the stars».
How do you utterly destroy an evening that holds so much promise? You really have to try… Hard.
This is a review for the once yearly event hosted by the American Museum of Natural History on Valentine’s Day. Given the lack of information anywhere regarding this event, I thought I’d write this review to warn my fellow Unilocalers.
This event, as it stands, is a disaster from the moment we set foot into the museum.
We tried to enter through the subway entrance and were turned away immediately, which makes no sense. It’s NYC in the middle of the winter, you have to expect that New Yorkers will be taking the subway.
The main entrance upstairs wasn’t any better. Most of the staff we talked to had no idea of the logistics of the event. We were told simply to wait on one side until someone comes out with the directions. Well, that never happened.
As it turns out, the museum, in a moment of eureka, decided not to trust the United States Postal Service, for fear of fake tickets. Instead, they devised a brilliant system where 400 people huddled around one small dingy table so that they may elbow their way to the front to present their IDs. For some, this meant an hour worth of waiting. Simply enter and sip champagne as promised? No. Wait around in your coats to drink prosecco.
**rant about prosecco skip if you don’t care**
Let’s talk about the prosecco. The museum clearly promised champagne in all its literature. For people who care, it’s like someone advertising a German car but selling you a Hyundai. After all, it has the same characteristics: 4 doors 4 wheels and an engine. It’s been almost a decade now since the people from the Champagne region won their case so that a bottle of $ 5 sour grapes would no longer be called champagne. After all the waiting, we were rewarded with a glass of sparkling headache. This was pretty much the worst prosecco I’ve ever tasted and that’s saying something.
We entered upon the atrium where a 4-​man jazz band was playing in front of a backdrop of a screen showing the cosmos. This was a nice touch. But once again, the novelty wears off quickly and we once again realize that we’ve been duped. There was no effort made by anyone to liven the mood or alleviate the stressful welcome. The lighting was terrible. There were no decorations of any kind. I really can’t tell if this was a party to celebrate love or if we were all at a funeral. Everyone was standing around. Lost. Wondering what we’ve gotten ourselves — and our partners — into. In retrospect, I’m not sure if a jazz quartet was the best way to usher in an evening to celebrate couples. On top of this, we found ourselves, again, huddling around the two small tables, elbowing our way, for snacks. The one server carrying the sole tray of hors d’oeuvres never made it around the entire room. This definitely was not an evening for riches or rewards.
The final event, the show and tell, inside the Hayden Planetarium, was the final straw. The two presenters rushed through their anecdotes of Greek mythology and the constellations as if they had somewhere else to go. Even for a fan of Greek mythology, I was struggling to keep up. What and what? I was left deeply questioning what the evening was all about. We left feeling conned. They took advantage of our desire to present our loved ones with something special, different, and meaningful. They lied to us about the food and the drinks. The mood on the line at the coat check, on the way out, was somber, with everyone realizing that they traded a special evening, that could have been spent at a Broadway show or a nice dinner, for some cheap trick of a conniving charlatan. The evening which seemed to hold so much promise was utterly destroyed.
We will not be back. You should not give this place a chance.