When: 4:24pm, Friday
I wouldn’t have even known about the existence of Vanderbar if I hadn’t stayed at the Roosevelt Hotel earlier this year. It’s just a generic sports-ish bar balding-but-not-old guys with wedding rings hit before heading home on Metro-North, and where the female bartenders pay far more attention to these men than the women sitting in front of them attempting to get service or pay a bill. It was hard to properly suss out the action because simply turning one’s head makes these men think you’re checking them out.
After becoming afraid to turn my head, I just had to eavesdrop on the threesome (two men, one woman who wasn’t drinking) next to me and try to deduce if the guy who said “I’m too old for this shit” also said he was 38 or 28. After discussing “being late bloomers” as in only recently starting to drink alcohol, I couldn’t take it anymore and gawked. Twenty-eight definitely.
Was I carded? No.
Age appropriate? It says a lot of you’re too old for this shit and you’re not even 30. But no, this is not an exclusive venue.