• Barred

    Barred: Dram

    When:  9:38pm on a Friday, and 12:20am on a separate Friday
    Drinks:  Makers on the rocks, a mildly unseasonal Leaves Do Fall (gin, Meletti  amaro, pear eau de vie, amontillado, orange bitters) $10

    Perhaps because it s not as new as OTB or as small as Post Office, both nearby choices, I’ve been able to get a seat (old people need to sit) on a weekend on both recent visits.  There are nice drinks at relatively sane prices and food like the kimchi dumplings (which I’ve had) and the masala popcorn (which I haven’t) that  makes the whole bar smell sweet and cause patrons to exclaim that they can smell Eggos.  Small plates, sherry and digestifs are indicators that a bar might be age appropriate–even if no one appears to be over 32–and serving a cold glass of water with a cocktail clinches it.

    I’m not sure if Ferris Bueller being projected on the wall was intended for those who’d originally seen it in the theater to reminisce/feel ancient or to give pop culture retroists a charge (same for the Fugazi playing one evening).

    Ladytron’s “Seventeen,"  echoing on visit one, couldn’t have been more apt."They only want you when you’re 17. When you’re 21, you’re no fun.” (And best sad YouTube comment: “I am fifteen i don’t want to be old D:”)

    My mission was saved when a 50-ish Mr. Belvedere-ish man in a wool overcoat stepped in the door just as I was about to leave. Then again, it’s different for men. I was with a gentleman celebrating his 43rd birthday and he couldn’t fathom why being the oldest person in a room would be an issue.

    Was I carded? Yes, both times by the nice (but tough to the card-less) bouncer who reminded me of an Irish boxer (not one in particular, but the genre I just invented in my mind) who was the most mature looking person in the bar and yet probably no more than 36.
    Age Appropriate? Not technically,  but the vibe isn’t egregious. A friend brought 60-somethings and they had a nice time.

    Dram

  • Barred,  Middle Ages

    Once you hit 40, you forget to button your shirt up all the way.

    [F]emme fatale and twice-divorced grandma Jane Scher, 58, has a pretty good batting average during her four times per week visits here; she’s met three guys she’s dated “but no one I fell in love with. All my friends mingle here, but the girls — I’m talking women in their 50s — are loose.”

    Well…hello! When first conceiving my middle-aged mission, this is not what I had in mind at all. Sure, I suspected the Upper East Side would be more fertile than most parts of Brooklyn, and this is a bonanza. The glaring question remains, though–who’s going with me to Arlington Club?