By CAROLE WATSON

November 16, 2002 -- A typical night out means getting assaulted with blaring rock music, ringing cell phones and some drunk screaming in your ear. By midnight, you want to order an Advil instead of a Cosmo. The perfect antidote to all that noise is the Quiet Party, launched last Saturday at Scotch Bonnet on West 31st Street - where all talking was banned, cell phones were forbidden and the jukebox was muted.

How, then, to flirt? Think study hall: By passing a note to the object of your affection.

It's all the idea of artist Paul Rebhan, 41, who gained attention in 1994 when he surreptitiously installed one of his own paintings in the Museum of Modern Art.

"A few weeks ago, I was out partying with some friends, and it was just so loud that we were screaming at each other. That's why we came up with this idea," explained Rebhan.

"I'm hoping this will attract people who want some peace and quiet, introverts and those looking for a new way to meet people."

Within a few minutes of the 10 p.m. start opening night, the party was in full swing, at least 20 revelers crushed into the candlelit "silent room."

Only stifled giggling over the risqué notes being passed around the room broke the silence.

The party soon sprawled out into the main restaurant where up to 150 people were busily writing on the paper tablecloths, flirting madly with written repartee on subjects as diverse as Mayor Bloomberg, Superwoman and matters of the heart.

Among the notes - many flown across the tables as hastily crafted paper airplanes - were:

"Talking is so early '90s."

"No slurping. This is a quiet party!"

"Is it bad manners to read other people's leftover notes?"

"Do you write here often?"

"I'm a professional handwriting analyst. We need to talk."

"Is this some kind of cult or something?"

"Should we all start getting nude now?"

Rebhan and his Quiet Party partner, 35-year-old singer/songwriter Tony Noe, eventually hope to gather all the notes for a visual art display.

Some formed a story, with each person adding a new sentence: "Once upon a time . . . in a dark cave . . . I had sex with a buffalo . . . who smelled of cheese . . ."

In a city where the NYPD quality-of-life hot line received 80,000 noise complaints last year, people quickly warmed to this shhh approach to dating and mating.

In the week since the party's debut, Rebhan has reports getting hundreds of e-mail inquiries and thousands of Web site hits.

"Many people are asking us to throw a weeknight quiet party," he says, "and we are working on setting that up now."

Said Suki Rae, a 30-year-old musician/songwriter: "This could really take off. It could be the new macarena!"

Still, the verdict on the evening wasn't unanimous.

Complained one attendee: "I won't be returning to Scotch Bonnet. No one would talk to me."

The next Quiet Party will be held tonight from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. at Scotch Bonnet, 32 W. 31st St, between Fifth Avenue and Broadway. For details, visit www.rebfile.com. Cover charge is $8 ($5 before 11 p.m.).