Apparently there is a restaurant attached to this Irish bar. We had no idea. That aside, this bar is actually a decent facsimile of an Irish pub in the big city. Complete with stained glass windows that look out into narrow alleys, tons of wood, tons of smoke, tons of beer, and a healthy dose of drunken buffoons, Parlour holds its own with the genuine Irish hooligans who come here to watch rugby on the bar televisions. Granted, these countrymen are generally overrun by squealing UWSers and the occasional Long Island poseur. This is one of those bars that seems to be fun and annoying all at the same time. Listening to good tunes pour out of the jukebox while hanging with friends is fun. Waiting 20 minutes to get a beer, and fighting your way through the crowd to use one of two private bathrooms is just plain annoying. The more we think about it, one should probably only go here when he/she is sure there won’t be a crowd. Unlike true Irishmen, Americans haven’t yet learned how to not crowd the bar or hold their bladders. Again we say, “Bathrooms are for peeing, not for making mobile phone calls or making out with the drunk girl with a coaster stuck to her face.” [MF]
250 W 86th St.