If you’re planning a night out in a bar in the Port Authority, then you have some serious problems. If you’re eating a meal here, then I don’t know what to tell you–other than you have some serious problems. There’s really no reason for this place to exist other than to ply major alcoholics with one for the road. There are, of course, those lost souls who drown themselves here most every night, chatting up other worn commuters with their cheap ties at half mast and hairsprayed dos drooping. It’s a sad little family that inhabits this strangely empty space. We would go on, but the black cloud of despair is moving in fast and we need to take cover. [MF]