Writer Steve Fishman, recounting his Jason Bourne fantasies during his attempts to reach Bernie Madoff in prison.

The mood was largely self-congratulatory Monday night at the celebratory release of New York Magazine’s first ebook, a collection of the magazine’s 26 most popular stories from the past five years, published by Byliner. New York staff and readers gathered at The Half King, singing praises to the publication over sliders and spinach salad and interrogating writers on their celebrity interview techniques.

New York editor-in-chief Adam Moss introduced “three of the longer lasting writers at the magazine,” Steve Fishman, Vanessa Grigoriadis and Jennifer Senior, who each read selections from their iconic cover stories—a profile of Bernie Madoff, Lady Gaga, and a sociological exploration of “why parents hate parenting,” respectively.

In the Q&A that followed, Ms. Grigoriadis was asked about her ability to “seduce the celebrity, to get her to … share intimate details of her life, only to end up reading a piece in which many things are said about her that she doesn’t particularly wish were said about her.”

“I never do that!” Ms. Grigoriadis replied indignantly. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she added, with only a trace of irony.

An audience member reversed the question, referencing Dan P. Lee’s profile of Fiona Apple, which appeared in New York last month. “I’m wondering about boundaries,” the woman inquired, alluding to the questionably close relationship which seems to develop between subject and writer in Mr. Lee’s profile. (“We’re friends,” Ms. Apple tells Mr. Lee when he inquires whether they might meet again, “for the story.”) “Did we tell the whole story with Fiona Apple?” the woman asked skeptically.

“I don’t know the real story about Fiona Apple,” said Ms. Grigoriadis, “but there is this tradition of male writers writing about female actresses and writing these pieces where you are wondering how close they really got, or whether they made it up in their minds like that, or they want you to think that…” She said, trailing off before assuring the audience: “For me, everything I know goes on the page. I’m not holding any celebrity secrets.”

Mr. Moss was quick to jump in and defend Mr. Lee’s profile, calling it “very deep,” assuring the audience that “there were no secrets kept.”

“I highly recommend it,” Mr. Moss said, unsurprisingly.

The real intrigue of the night was supplied by Mr. Fishman, who read from his profile “The Madoff Tapes,” which Mr. Moss later reminded the audience was the first in-depth conversation with Bernie Madoff published following his crimes. “How’d that happen?” Mr. Moss asked.

“Glad you asked,” Mr. Fishman responded eagerly, launching into a retelling of the pursuit. “The prison authorities shut me off, which I found very motivating,” he explained, and recounted how he managed to get a list of every inmate in Mr. Madoff’s prison. He wrote letters to every one of them, figuring some would get through the prison authorities.

“I put my phone number in [the letter], and because I have Jason Bourne fantasies I bought this disposable cell phone,” he laughed. Yet the real break, he explained, was an inmate serving life without parole who fancied himself a journalist. Mr. Fishman was able to communicate with the inmate through his girlfriend in Spain, and it was this contact who ultimately delivered Fishman’s letter to Mr. Madoff himself.

“He vouched for my character, and Madoff said, okay, I’ll do it,” Mr. Fishman recounted, remembering the night of a Jets playoff game when he got a collect call from Mr. Madoff. “I didn’t have a tape recorder, and I was running around the house in front of my young children yelling ‘Shit, Bernie Madoff’s on the phone!’”

“For the story it was really important that Madoff speak. Yes, it’s important that its true, but its much more important to hear the story from inside the mouth of this person,” Mr. Fishman explained in response to a question from Mr. Moss regarding Mr. Madoff’s reputation as a pathological liar.

“As a footnote, he told me that he liked it,” Mr. Fishman said of Mr. Madoff’s opinion of the profile.

Angry Bob gets angry.

On it’s final night of operation (at least as the unique and wonderfully dingy place it has been for the past ten years) the Bowery Poetry Club on Bowery and 1st Street, a long-time haven for the starving artists of lower Manhattan, expressed its perfect weirdness in more ways than one.

As an elderly man headed from the bar, drink in hand, donning nothing but his birthday suit and a "What are you looking at?" expression, the people scattered around the venue were unfazed.

We turned to the couple next to us – a petite woman with a pixie cut and a man in a fedora – and blurted, “Is that guy always just naked? And no one cares?”

“He’s just around,” said the guy nonchalantly. He gave a half-eye-roll, half-smirk and continued, “There’s a lot of crazy stuff here.”

Oh, we could tell.

First open for business in 2002, the BPC (or BoPo as it is fondly known among regulars) has served more than its initial purpose of a café/bar/small performance venue over the years.

“This place has been my home. I consider it my home because of the people who are here,” said Mr. Symphonics Shawn Randall, who has been frequenting and performing at the club for nine years.

Owner Bob Holmanwas absent from the farewell event. Puppeteer and former employee of the club Kaylie Cummins told The Observer that he was in Wales pursuing a project. How important can this be if the owner isn’t at his own club’s final night? we wondered.

“No, we understand,” Ms. Cummins assured us, “Bob has projects. You know, we all have other projects, other places…" She trailed off with a dazed look, only to once again lock eyes with us and say, more assuredly than ever, “But this is home.”

The evening's host Sean T. Hanratty addressed the audience with the classic, “How’s everyone doing tonight?” An audience member shouted, “Clinically depressed!”

The feeling was unanimous among attendees.

“Now I’m gonna have to go back to the Port Authority men’s room and hang out there,” said club’s legendary and vulgarly outspoken performer, Angry Bob, in his farewell address.

The club is not closing, but it is undergoing renovations and will reopen in the fall under the same owner as a higher-end restaurant and jazz venue.

“Once again, money has trumped art,” Angry Bob seethed.

Ms. Cummins explained that Holman plans to rent the club out to Duane Park, a burlesque jazz club in TriBeCa, two nights a week, and to the Bowery Arts and Science LTD, a non-profit organization that produces the club’s programs, for another two nights.

She, as well as the more than seventy people in attendance last night, only hope that Mr. Holman will continue to host the same gigs that the club has seen for the past ten years the other nights of the week. Only time will tell.

Attendees surmised that the conglomerate of poets who call the BPC home will most likely move to places like the Nuyorican Poets Café, The Moth, 45 Bleecker St., or just “hit the street mic.”

The club’s legacy will no doubt live on, as artists such as Moonshine and the Giggle Fits, Fiona Apple, and Taylor Mali have graced the stage over the years.

Although the fate of the club hangs in abeyance, employees noted that they support and love Mr. Holman in his endeavors.

“It’ll be very different,” one former employee told us. “There will definitely be no more naked people walking around.”

That’s one thing we’re not too upset about.

Fiona Apple

Having already gorged ourselves on Pride at the Day Party—we’re so proud, our heads are spinning and we need a few Advil!—we’re opting out of today’s parade and heading to the relative calm of Randall’s Island. That’s where the weekend-long Governor’s Ball Music Festival is happening, with headliners including Modest Mouse and Devendra Banhart. (Yesterday saw Santigold, Chromeo and Passion Pit perform.) Old-timey nostalgia acts Beck and Fiona Apple are to appear as well, making this essentially Woodstock ’99 2012. We’re going for the music but staying for the high-end down-market cuisine, from purveyors like Hill Country Barbecue, Luke’s Lobster Rolls and Asia Dog. (Hey, Pride is over, so we’re breaking our diets!)

Randall’s Island, festival runs all weekend; tickets and information can be found at governorsballmusicfestival.com.