30 to Midnight

Pegu Club, SoHo

Monday, 10pm

Pegu Club
77 W. Houston St. (W. Broadway), Manhattan

One thing about Pegu Club, and we mean this in praise, is it makes us want to smoke. Cigarettes. Really. And we're trying not to do that anymore. In fact, it's been months since we had even a drag. But there's something about Pegu Club on a weeknight...oh, yes...definitely a weeknight to enjoy the place...that makes us crave...well, we already said it. It must be the cocktails.

Another thing about Pegu Club, and other places that do not appeal to AA's, is what are people thinking coming in groups of seven and ten and any number that constitues a group? Parties, fine, but going out for a drink? Sheesh. This reminds us that we really owe you an analysis of what works when you're going out seeking future entertainment. Simply put: Groups of two. Go out with one friend if you're seeking a new friend.

Note: words in italics are not straightforward.

Weather Up, Prospect Heights

Friday, 9pm

Weather Up
589 Vanderbilt Ave. (Dean St.), Brooklyn

Initially, upon entering this unmarked bar (589 appears above the door in sticker form), our hopes were high. We were excited by the tile and the funky ceiling and the amazing bar stools. Photos of the stools are unavailable because the lights were dimmed to the level of hallway findthebathroom nightlight. That made it hard to read the menu. Not that there was any rush for time.

Like most bars that consider their bartenders to be chefs, service is protracted here. We don't know any kitchens that would tolerate that sort of pace, not even at home, but that's another story. They were out of mint for the Old Cuban (aka a mojito with champagne) so we waited 25 minutes while the bartender made two other drinks before returning to see what was our second choice. If you can't get drinks out more efficiently, get another guy behind the bar, or let that barback girl do something more than watch. Sheesh. Confused by the business model here.

In terms of Age, the crowd was mostly Appropriate, and partially bearded. One definitely Appropriate man engaged us as we were heading out.
"You're leaving?" he asked.
We expected him to flirtily ask why or ask us to stay after we said Yes.
Instead he said, "Oh great! Can I have your seat?"
To which Sara replied, "No."
He was momentarily confused. Maybe because the acoustics in there are terrible, or maybe because he's not clever or interesting, or maybe because they slightly turned up the lights and we didn't look so good anymore. We'll never know. 

In case you noticed that this picture is somewhat better than our usual..it was taken by The Tileist, one of many smart, creative, incredible friends.

Sweet Paradise Lounge, Lower East Side

Thursday, 10:30pm

Sweet Paradise
14 Orchard St. (Hester St.), Manhattan

We can't figure out Sweet Paradise is a divey or a designy bar, and we like that confusion. We also can't figure out what happened to our picture. If we had that picture you could see the shelves showcasing candy, a memory of the location's previous tenant (maybe they should put some socks up there too). Anyway, because this place is owned by the Welcome to the Johnsons people we expected AIs in abundance, but that's the difference between weekdays and weekends, and Orchard and Rivington: Room for AAs.

Bongo, West Village

Wednesday, 7:15pm

Bongo
West St. (W. 10th St.), Manhattan

Three different rooms and hardly anyone to fill them, though those inside are AA. We're not into the eclectic barware (don't serve a sauvignon blanc in a heavy, thick, purple, glass goblet) or the mixed drinks (don't throw all the pith and rind into the blender when an ingredient is grapefruit; don't use club soda when tonic was requested) or some of the service (don't tell us a credit card is denied if you only tried once). But the lobster salad on tiny dinner rolls are addictive and the cole slaw that accompanies the platter is fantastic. That said, the menu is hard to open (bad clasp placement) and feels dirty. Wow does this sound super negative when really we were thinking we'd like to host a party at the new Bongo, in either the front, blueish room that somewhat resembles a lobby, or the smaller, back, reddish room that's more living room-like?

pictured: chardonnay in a glass with a flipped over rim like a vase, or a collar.

Lillie's, Flatiron

Friday, 7:15pm (and, Tuesday, 7:15pm)

Lillie's
13 E. 17th St. (Fifth Ave.), Manhattan

This "Victorian" bar (and restaurant) is a melting pot of mostly Age InAppropriates. We love the multigeneousness (suits, porkpie hats, flimsy tanktops, kurt cobain, holly golightly) but we wish we could raise the age. Hostess tells us Thursdays to Sundays are packed with late-20's and early 30's, well into the night. We can attest to a pretty full house, and similarly dissimilar crowd, when we stopped in.

Chloe 81, Lower East Side

Wednesday, 11pm

Chloe 81
81 Ludlow St. (Delancey), Manhattan

Chloe 81 is a shining example of Age InAppropriateness. This is a place where 26 year-olds in white pegged jeans huddle, constantly reassuring one other that it is, in fact, cool to stand around in a small, dank basement reminiscent of a Latvian prison swim club’s dressing area (as our friend Tony says). It's not even AA Before Midnight here. 

Warren 77, Tribeca

Wednesday, 11pm

Warren 77
77 Warren St. (W. Broadway), Manhattan

"The men here are not in tights, if you know what I mean," said a 27-year-old who told us her name was Jesse yet answered to Anna when her companion called. We don't know that means but we do know we liked Warren 77's post-game vibe, which smelled deliciously like someone getting high (in an open window seat) and garlic (dinners still on tables). And we dig the giant green banquettes with their semi-private flat-screens. We'll be back for sports. Bartender says the crowd is consistently 20's and 30's, many Beatrice Inn-ers. That said, we don't feel old, but we will leave by midnight.

Note: Warren 77 closes at 1am.

Brass Monkey, Meatpacking District

Saturday, 7pm

Brass Monkey
55 Little West 12th St. (Washington St.), Manhattan

We were greeted by an encouragingly chill first-floor crowd in their 30's, eating and watching sports. On the roof deck, however, the party was in full swing. According to the 20-something server, these more boisterous ones had been at it for a couple hours already. Lucky for us, some early boozers bailed, abandoning their spots on the cushy bench—just in time for us to catch the sunset. At some point, our view was blocked by picture-posing girls in foofy dresses. It was obviously time for us to go.
-Amy B.

White Star, Lower East Side

Friday, 7pm

White Star
21 Essex St. (Hester St.), Manhattan

After walking through the disorganized opening of HomeBase IV at the Bialystoker Home for the Aged, we got $13 mani-pedis on Clinton Street. Kidding. We haven't done that in years, but now that we recall the value, we'll be back. And we might also be back for a drink at White Star, a great bar for girls who want to get drunk and boys who want to get girls drunk. We say that because this cute cocktail spot, part of the Sasha Petraske/Milk & Honey world:

• is Age Appropriate
• makes stiff drinks (pictured, from left, a French 75 and a Bees Knees)
• is a date place
• is not particularly masculine
• not that there's anything wrong with that
• just saying

Bartender was inventing (read: forgetting actual recipes) drinks for a couple by the window, and taking her time attending to anyone else. Hopefully it never gets as crowded as we've heard or quenching your thirst will take as much time as getting a slice at DiFara (or Artichoke).

Smith & Mills, Tribeca

Saturday, 11pm

Smith & Mills
71 North Moore St. (Greenwich), Manhattan

Difficult to see through the attitude to notice the crowd is mostly Age Appropriate in this mini bar and restaurant, owned by the same peeps who run the Beatrice Inn (hence the 'tude?). While we were debating whether or not to get a $14 cocktail, a 37-year-old male pushes one of us aside as if she cut him in line for American Idol auditions, saying "I need to get my drink," which he'd left on the bar, two rows of people away from where he was perched. A group of about eight occupied half the standing-bar space.

"Guess you'll have to stand at the door now," Sara says to the 37's companion, who looks at her like she's speaking Aramaic (its is Easter Eve, after all). People (couples, single men in their early 40's) in the banquets are staring, and not at each other.

Can't exactly articulate it, but It Doesn't Feel Good in Here. Still, this place deserves one more shot, simply for its cozy-cool cuteness.