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Barred: Bar URBO
When: Tuesday, 6:48pm
Lately I’ve noticed that if you tweet about a Times Square establishment, a nearby business you’ve never heard of will attempt to engage you in conversation. Something called The Three Monkeys wanted to know why I’d called URBO “the weirdo bar.”
Well…because it is weird.
PWeird,“ "crazy,” and “fancy” are all uncreative catchalls I frequently lean on. I can’t help it. In this instance URBO is weird because it’s in my office building where the Señor Frog’s is threatening to open any day. Up a massive spiral staircase that opens into an empty event space and catering kitchen, the second-floor bar is also large, more after-work than touristy, never mobbed, reasonably priced at happy hour, but more than anything the whole URBO complex is weird, enormousness aside, because the lofty, rough hewn-industrial aesthetic paired with Blue Bottle coffee, pork belly, and poached eggs as garnish is still out of place on the corner of 42nd Street and Eighth Avenue facing Chevy’s and Dallas BBQ. I believe that within ten years this Brooklyn shorthand will be the norm and that the entire swath of Times Square will be lit by Edison bulbs and filled with communal tables crafted from reclaimed wood.
Recently URBO has added stand-up comedy and “curated open mic” nights. Weird or crazy?
On the substantial walk from the bar to the very nice individual stall, floor-t0-ceiling door, bathrooms (one might say fancy) on the far side of the unused private dining area, “Sausalito” by Ohio Express was tinkling quietly over the speakers. On the subway ride home “Sausalito” by Ohio Express started playing in my earbuds. Definitely weird.
Was I carded? No one underage would even bother.
Age appropriate? Of course. Anything geared toward midtown drones will be to some degree. On this particular evening the bar appeared to be hosting an office party including a very non-young pregnant woman in a maxi dress.
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Screen Time: Broadchurch
Broadchurch’s detective sergeant Ellie Miller, played by Olivia Colman (41), the type of regular person actress sorely lacking in the US, hasn’t been having a great time since her husband was accused of killing her neighbor’s son after sort of trying to molest him. Here, she’s out on the town with Eve Myles’ (36) Claire (who I will always think of as Gwen from Torchwood) a woman who may have aided her husband in a kidnapping and that she’s living with in a pseudo-witness protection arrangement but also because she has no friends because everyone in Broadchurch hates her. That’s what gin and tonics are for. They are also the oldest women in this pub scene.
These are the two gentleman they bring home. And no, it doesn’t go well.
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Millennials Say Amazon.com Provides Best Customer Service, Boomers Disagree
While consumers overall recently voted L.L.Bean the best in customer service, if you ask a Millennial, he or she will likely disagree. New analysis from Prosper’s Customer Service Champions ranking reveals a vast
disparity between two of the most divergent generations, Millennials
(born 1983-1997) and Boomers (born 1946-1964), when it comes to the
retailers they elevate to customer service excellence. -
Screen Time: Younger
There is a new TV show on Nickelodeon (or is that nick@nite, asks the grandma?) called Younger, based on the premise that a 40-year-old New Jersey woman recently left by her husband for a younger woman natch (kids say that, right?) can pass as 26 to get a job in publishing.
Nine minutes in, and it’s already surpassed all expectations.
Liza meets her bestie, a lesbian played by Debi Mazar, at Matchless and peak Brooklyn humor ensues: “Excuse me, I moved to Brooklyn because I couldn’t afford Manhattan. And now thanks to all these bearded cheesemongers and chicks that look like Macaulay Culkin, I can’t afford Brooklyn.”
A tattoo artist, Josh, who looks straight up 1999, orders shots of bourbon–skinny margaritas be gone!–and cracks a Lena Dunham joke before putting his number in her phone.
Liza gets made fun of for saying tattoo “parlor,” which Josh calls a lounge and reinforces his 1999-ness and conflicts with the olde-timey Brooklyn shtick being made fun of minutes early. Liza does not know who Lena Dunham is (there’s a Matchless connection). She also thinks Mumbai is still called Bombay, has an AOL email address, and no idea what Pinterest, Twitter, Instagram, Tinder, or any social media are.
I’m not sure if I can handle the remaining 51 minutes.
