Thursday, 8:45pm
The Manchester Pub
920 Second Ave. (49th St.), Manhattan
The Manchester tricked us. We peeked in pre-dinner and were excited by what we saw: a bar full of AA's not-all-suits. We decided to come back later so we could linger and enjoy. But, yes, things went awry (as they oft do when making plans in this risky hood). When we returned, barely two hours later, the place was easily 15 years younger. We ordered anyway, and watched in disbelief as if drinking with Dorian Gray. Within an hour the Manchester was so AI we were suffocating. We finished our tasty beers and skedaddled (so unfair).
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