Yet another honky-tonk, redneck bar that seems about as out of place in the East Village as a sports bar in Chelsea. Surrounded by area hipster joints, and “beautiful” dives, Doc Holliday’s is like a breath of stale UES air–an amazing recreation of Brother Jimmy’s or, god for bid, American Trash. It follows the typical pattern: grime on the floor, country in the jukebox, female bartenders with half-shirts who only know six-packs when they come bound with those seagull killing, plastic rings, and some sort of cheap domestic beer that everyone says reminds them of home. How Lone Star or Iron City reminds anybody in this place of home is beyond us, unless of course Jersey was filled with a bunch of steel workers or cowboys we weren’t aware of. Anyway, more of the same who-haw. If you like that kind of thing, be our guest, if not, boot scoot yourself over to a place with some class. [MF]
141 Ave A (bet St. Mark’s & 9th St)
212/979-0312