One couldn’t find a place less like the Deep South than The Upper West Side of Manhattan. Instead of fiddling Mongoloids, Bro Jimmy’s staffs its bar with Daisy Duke wearin’ beauties straight out of the Southern sorority circuit. The crowd at this location trends a little older and less rambunctious than the other two joints (although not much), which makes things for us elderly folks more tolerable. There are tons of TV’s everywhere, which makes watching Syracuse roll through the NCAA tournament all that much easier. There are tables in the front, middle and back of the bar so you can eat and drink pitchers while catching the game and the action around the bar. I must admit, there’s something about the combination of plastic, checked tablecloths, fried food, bartenders in skimpy baby-t’s and sports that makes me happy. The blackened chicken sandwich, fries and buffalo wings always hit the spot, and the cheap, American beer helps wash the whole thing down–without breaking the bank. [MF]
428 Amsterdam Ave.