There’s no sugarcoating it; this place is a dive. Granted, it’s a dive on the UWS and is filled with oddly preppy locals. The dichotomy is hard to reconcile, but somehow works in the context of the lonely block on which the bar is located. Sitting right off Columbus, the place attracts locals from the surrounding buildings, along with curious stragglers walking down from the more-trafficked establishments on Broadway. Broken down booths line one wall, while a ratty bar with tarnished mirrors sits on the other. A weird fluorescent glow emanates from behind the bar and casts an odd light on the whole place. The feel is more fraternity basement than Irish pub, with the owner/bartenders acting as the house parents. The scene is mellow, if not a bit sloppy, and certainly affords patrons a low-key affair in an otherwise snooty location. Maybe this isn’t the place you take a date or start and evening of fun, but it certainly fits the bill for a dark place to drink the last couple beers of the night, puke under the table and take your bloodshot eyes and aching head back home. [MF]
103 W 72nd St.