By Bret Nolan Collazzi
It was late in the evening on a moderately busy street as cars rolled up from Queens, Westchester and the Bronx. The women in satin dresses, the men in blazers, they passed through the opaque glass door, tendering personal invitations or dropping names to a clipboard-clasping hostess, the guardian of the guest list. Sounds of reggae, salsa and hip-hop slipped momentarily outdoors.
Welcome to Throggs Neck