My visit here was a short one. It basically involved stumbling in drunk from a night out elsewhere, ordering a beer with a couple friends, getting half-way through it and figuring out that I needed to bolt before I turned into a pumpkin (or a chick wearing rags and non-glass slippers). What I recall was a non-descript dive of a bar with that same pale neon light that pervades its sister bars WXOU (where Mrs. Hipster once used the facilities) and The Magician. Whereas it gave The Magician a somewhat lonely and foreboding feel, the light gave this bar’s smaller space a little bit of seediness that was probably unintended and undeserved. It could have been my slightly ajar consciousness and a grinding Stones or bassy blues song that put me in that state of mind, but it seemed like NYC circa 1977 was about to break out all over the place. Not being versed in Easy Village lore, I was unaware that most folks call this place The Tile Bar, but it just makes sense what with their being tiles on the walls, and the East Village’s knack for never calling bars by their proper names (see Vazac’s and 288 Bar). Not completely having my wits about me (and chugging the last half of my cold Bud draft before scampering out the door) I can’t say that WCOU made a huge impression on me, but perhaps that’s the whole idea, right? [MF]
115 1st Ave.