It's Peak Season For Chronic Party Crashers

An elite squad of interlopers have turned showing up uninvited into an art form

- JULIA MUNSLOW AND LAURA MA

Paul Gee was searching for a holiday party in a New Jersey banquet hall when a staff member stopped him and asked if he knew where he was supposed to be.

"The company event?" Gee replied. Once the 31year-old event host and entertainer found the right room, he scoped the scene, then beelined for the DJ. "Hey bro, let me see that real quick," said Gee, reaching for the mic.

"Oh yeah, get it, c'mon!" Gee shouted to the crowd.

But Gee wasn't booked to host the event-he was just crashing the party.

It's high season for people like Gee, part of an elite group of gate-crashers who have turned showing up uninvited into an art form.

The basic playbook is the same: Dress the part, act confidently, conduct a little advance research, and don't cause a disturbance.

Like any good game of luck and chance, favored tactics vary.

Some prefer to sneak onto the Please list beforehand, while others waltz through the front door with aplomb. The lucky ones snag a departing guest's nametag, and the most brazen ask staff for an escort to the affair. Many claim crashing is easier than it looks-and that they almost never get caught.

About 14% of Americans say they've successfully attended a party or event without the host's permission, while 4% say they've tried and failed, according to a December YouGov survey.

Roughly 6% of Americans say they are interested in crashing a party at some point. Most of the rest think it's wrong. (It is.) And some might think it's irresponsible to highlight tricks of the trade in a large publication. (Also probably true.)

Gee, who lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., started crashing parties out of curiosity, and has chronicled his escapades on social media. "When I leave, I hug people, I give business cards out," he said.