Former NYC Mayor Eric Adams Does Birthday All-Nighter And Doesn’t Give A Shit What You Think About That

Look at Eric Adams. Look at the absolute, unfiltered essence of a guy who simply refuses to let a little thing like the passage of 24 consecutive hours stop him from being the single most confusing human being in North America.

The former Mayor of New York City turned 66 this week. Sixty-six years old. Most people hitting that particular milestone celebrate by eating a sensible slice of angel food cake, taking a slightly longer nap than usual on the recliner, and complaining about the draft near the patio door.

Not Eric. Absolutely not.

Eric Adams started his birthday on Tuesday night at a piano bar in Midtown with a crew that looks like it was generated by a bad AI prompt: former sporting goods CEO Mitch Modell, supermarket magnate John Catsimatidis, and a PR guy. He posted a photo looking like he was having the absolute time of his life, claiming he was “setup” into walking straight into a surprise birthday cake.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning. The sun is up. Commuters are dragging themselves onto the subway, clutching iced coffees like life rafts, dreading the slow march of their mortal existence. And who comes gliding down 46th Street near Madison Avenue?

It’s Eric. Riding a blue Citi Bike. In the exact same white dress shirt, red tie, and tan pants he wore to dinner the night before.

He was doing a morning commute walk of shame—or rather, a CitiBike of shame—in full business casual, looking slightly rumpled, wearing headphones, and pedaling through Midtown like a guy who just spent twelve hours doing shots of oat milk and talking about “swagger” to a wall.

The New York Post, being the New York Post, immediately published the photos, practically pointing and yelling like a middle school bully on the playground. They ran a whole piece marveling at the fact that a 66-year-old former police officer was caught dead in yesterday’s clothes riding a rental bicycle in broad daylight.

And how did Eric respond? Did he issue a polite statement through a spokesperson? Did he delete his apps?

No. He quoted the New York Post article on X—the platform formerly known as Twitter—and dropped a quote so breathtakingly, shamelessly iconic that it belongs in the Smithsonian:

“Hold on a second. Don’t you all party all night on your birthday?”

Read those words again. Let them wash over you.

Do you comprehend the sheer level of audacity required to hit the internet at 66 years old, after riding a city-sponsored pedal bike through Midtown Manhattan in yesterday’s sweat, and ask the public if they don’t also pull 18-hour benders on a Tuesday?

No, Eric! We do not! Most of us get tired around 9:45 PM after watching two episodes of a British crime drama! We have lower back pain! We have mortgages!

The man treats New York City not as a municipality of eight million people, but as his own personal, 300-square-mile nightclub where he happens to be the head promoter. He doesn’t see a “walk of shame.” He sees a victory lap. He looks at a rumpled button-down shirt and a Citi Bike handles as the legitimate attire of a champion who conquered the night.

You have to respect it, honestly. You don’t have to agree with his policy record, but you simply cannot deny the sheer, unadulterated commitment to the bit. While the rest of us spend our birthdays stressing over our inevitable march toward mortality, Eric Adams is out here riding a heavy blue bicycle down Madison Avenue in yesterday’s tie, thoroughly convinced that everyone else is living life wrong.

Absolute legend. Go take a nap, Eric. You’ve earned it.