For a few hours, N.Y.’s hottest party was a wedding reception on the subway (2024)

She caught her train but didn’t get the peaceful ride she wanted. Instead, she entered the subway car to find one of the greatest parties she’d ever seen. Fake ivy and gold tinsel hung from the handrails. A red carpet led to a table topped with a five-tiered wedding cake. An emcee on a mic welcomed her and other newcomers. Music, including Snoop Dogg’s “Gin and Juice” was blasting as people danced and screamed.

“I walked in and was like, ‘Oh wow … this is really frickin’ cool,” she told The Washington Post.

Unbeknownst to Kohler, who’d just left her job as an executive office manager on the Upper East Side, boarding that particular subway car had made her a guest at a wedding reception for Daniel Jean and Esmy Valdez — two people she had never met. The newlyweds from Brooklyn had gotten married five days earlier and, unable to afford an expensive reception, were celebrating their nuptials on the New York subway with family, friends and any of the millions of daily subway riders who happened to enter their train car.

“They made us feel as much a part of it as the wedding party,” Kohler said.

The events that led to the L-line wedding reception started more than three years ago when Valdez developed a crush on Jean while following him on social media, she told The Post. She was later surprised to notice that he subscribed to her OnlyFans account. The two flirted online, talked on the phone and finally met in person. Their friendship grew but remained platonic.

Then, about a year after meeting, they went on their first date to a fancy movie theater in Manhattan. Last year, their relationship accelerated in June when Valdez passed out from septic shock, affecting her kidneys.

Although doctors worried she might die, Valdez pulled through and while she recuperated, Jean was there. He helped take care of Valdez and made sure her daughter had a birthday celebration while her mother was out of commission.

And when Valdez recovered, he sent her and her daughter to Costa Rica for a vacation.

“He’s over the top,” she said.

Then, on June 20 this year, Jean proposed, and because he knew Valdez didn’t want a long engagement, the two, who are 39 and 38 respectively, got married a week later in a small ceremony at the Haitian church that Jean’s mother attends.

Valdez had told him she didn’t want a reception, so they didn’t plan one. She had watched couples spend $50,000 or $60,000 on a reception only to stress about the details instead of celebrating their lifelong commitment with those they loved. She wanted nothing to do with that.

Jean wasn’t opposed to a reception, but was also worried about the cost given his large family and wide circle of friends. But, wanting to celebrate their new marriage in some kind of way, he secretly started planning a reception that started out traditionally enough. Tapping his connections from when he was a high-end driver, Jean got DJ Whoo Kid, who’s worked with famous musicians for decades, to fly out from Las Vegas to perform at the reception and rappers Snoop Dogg and 50 Cent to donate some of their branded drinks.

But he had a less traditional idea about the venue — the L train, which runs some 10 miles from 14th Street and Eighth Avenue in Manhattan to the Canarsie neighborhood in southeast Brooklyn. They could have their wedding reception for the cost of a subway fare.

While most couples try to plan out every aspect of their wedding months in advance, Jean saw giving up control as a plus. With the subway’s daily ridership of 3.2 million, they would have no control over their guest list beyond the friends and family they boarded with. All would be welcome.

“I just like the train,” Jean said. “There’s always something going on in the train.”

Jean kept the reception a semi-secret from his new wife. He told her to show up at 4:30 p.m. on July 2 at the Canarsie-Rockaway Parkway stop — the line’s eastern terminus — but didn’t say why. Knowing her new husband’s penchant for surprises and adventures, Valdez suspected something but not a surprise wedding reception, especially since they had agreed not to have one.

“Living with Jean is like an eternal fun mystery. You just know that you are in for a ride,” Valdez said. “So I knew it was going to be something, but I never in my life …”

As instructed, she parked in front of the Dunkin’ next to the subway station. She spotted Jean walking up in a pink suit and blue Knicks ball cap. He had a white bag — inside: a wedding dress with a veil and train that he’d bought on Amazon.

Then Valdez noticed they were surrounded by about 50 of their friends and family members.

Still unsure about exactly what was happening, Valdez put the dress on over her clothes and fixed her hair. Then, a violinist and a saxophonist started playing “Gin and Juice.”

Jean led Valdez and the rest of their crew down to the platform.

After a delay caused by police arresting a man at the station, the wedding troupe boarded the L train. Valdez watched as her crew set up a big table in the center of the train decorated with roses around the edges and hung fake ivy and sunflowers from the handrails at the top of the car. There were catering pans filled with chicken, salmon, mac and cheese and a special Caribbean Rasta pasta that, according to Valdez, was gone “as soon as the train doors opened.” And there was a five-tiered wedding cake.

“They thought about freaking everything,” she said.

Tim Minton, communications director for the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, said in a statement that “everyone loves a good love story and like most New Yorkers, Daniel and Esmy know the subway is great value.”

The train started heading west between 5 and 5:30 p.m. Guests dished up their food and welcomed strangers to do the same as DJ Whoo Kid made announcements and played music, including 50 Cent’s “In Da Club,” Cardi B’s “I Like It,” Sexyy Red’s “Get It Sexyy” and more “Gin and Juice,” all of it punctuated with the live violin and saxophone.

At one point, someone dressed as Spider-Man attended. At another, there was someone in a gorilla costume. Later, when their power source went down, killing the music, everyone clapped and made other noise so the dancing and partying could keep going. As new riders entered the party car, Jean and Valdez’s crew asked them their names and then turned them into a song.

“Daniel and I pretty much wanted to make people happy,” Valdez said. “We wanted them to feel like a part of what we were doing.”

“For a moment we took people out of the harsh reality that we’re living in,” she added. “It was something positive in the midst of all this ugly.”

Mission accomplished, at least as far as Kohler is concerned. If it hadn’t been for her friend date at the bar, she said she would have stayed at the party and ridden the L train to the end of the line.

In a space where most New Yorkers check out and keep to themselves, Kohler included, Jean and Valdez had found a way for Kohler and hundreds of others to do the opposite. For 30 minutes, Kohler connected with strangers, most of them fellow New Yorkers.

“It felt like ‘just be here with us and have fun,’” Kohler said of the impromptu party with strangers.

Kohler got off at Jefferson Street so she could stay at the party one stop longer than her planned destination. More people got off behind her. Others got on, totally unprepared for what they were about to experience.

With an automated “Stand clear of the closing doors, please” and a bing bong, the subway doors did just that. Kohler climbed the stairs up to the surface back to her busy New York life.

The L train kept going — and so did the party.