The 8 Douchiest Bars In NYC To Avoid At All Costs

Congratulations, Betches, you made it to Friday. Which means you’re, like, one passive-aggressive department email away from slipping something stronger than Baileys into your coffee. And, like, same. I’m also counting down the minutes until I can escape and find a happy hour with drink prices that won’t require me to trade my first born child in for a vodka soda. (Which I totally would do depending on how good that vodka soda was). But because we live in a sprawling metropolis filled with millennials assholes with Instagram accounts, happy hour always comes with a price and that price is douchebags.

Tbh I don’t hate douchebags as much as, say, an emotionally stable, functioning adult with eyes and a brain should. I guess there’s something endearing about the drunkest, loudest, preppiest asshole in the room who will probs spill beer on himself and/or insult no less than five people at the bar. Oh shit. Wait, maybe I’m the douchebag…? Nah, can’t be because I’m a fucking gem. But I can’t deny that I do love to party with the douchebags. That should be a True Life segment right there. But it’s because of my high tolerance for alcohol douchebaggery that I’m able to frequent the bars these creatures are constantly trolling in and write this article. I’m super giving like that. So here’s a list of the douchiest bars in Manhattan. You’re welcome.

1. Turtle Bay

Location: Midtown East
Type of Douchebag: The Business Bro Douchebag

Midtown East should come with some sort of warning label like “this area contains very expensive drinks and douchebags in a suit, continue at your own risk of being roofied.” (Side note: can we consult the mayor about this? I have some v important plans for the city, people.) The majority of dudes who hit up this bar work “in business” which I’m sure is the vague way of saying they have a business degree from some shitty school upstate (I assume). That’s titillating stuff right there. Turtle Bay is no different. They call it a “grill and lounge” which is really just code for getting fucked up and enduring probably married dudes hitting on you while simultaneously talking your ear off about how they used to “rule at beer pong.” And they say romance is dead.

You've Got To Be Kidding Me

2. Brother Jimmy’s

Location: Murray Hill
Type of Douchebag: The Hoboken Douchebag

I am sure other people besides Hoboken commuters hang out at this bar, but if there are, I haven’t met them. As far as I’m concerned this is just a landing spot for people who don’t actually live in the city to feel a little bit alive by getting fucked up off of blue swamp juice and waiting for their train to Jers. Because this place serves fishbowls so you know it’s a fucking shit show in there. This is also the type of establishment that Trump supporters frequent, or so I would imagine because I knew a girl who knew a guy who voted for Trump who loves this bar and so now it will forever be the bar for Trump supporters and Hoboken commuters. I’m sure there’s no connection. Godspeed to those who enter, though! 

3. 13th Step

Location: East Village
Type of Douchebag: The Frat Star Douchebag

Let me just set the scene here, K? Picture the dankest, darkest basement of your favorite frat house in college. Now think about going there as an adult and having Natty Lite spilled on your the purse you just fucking bought. Charming. As for the douchebags that populate this Satan’s den bar, I’ll just leave this here:


Jesus. So in case I wasn’t being clear enough, this is a bar where 90% of its customers are dudes in a frat/want to be in a frat/think they’re still in a frat even though they graduated three years ago and the other 10% are girls who say shit like “I get along better with guys.” Definitely hit up this bar if you just turned 21 and/or want to feel like you’re 21 again.

4. Hair Of The Dog

Location: Lower East Side
Type of Douchebag: The Shit Show Douchebag

If Midtown East is where the full-blown douchebags reside, then LES is where the young-douches-in-training hang out. And Hair of the Dog is the mecca for sloppy assholes with a drinking problem. I equate this bar to the second ring of Hell, because unless you’re blackout this place is a cesspool. I have literally seen people dry humping on the floor. ON THE FLOOR. Another thing about HOTD is that time does not seem to pass here. It could be 2am or 2pm and there would still be a fuck-ton of people grinding to shitty rap music and vomiting in the bathroom sink. I say all of this like I don’t frequent this den of hedonism every other Saturday because it’s a fun fucking time and I totally do. 


^^ Real footage of me watching some crazy shit go down at HOTD

5. Jake’s Dilemma

Location: Upper West Side
Type of Douchebag: The Douchebag Who Doesn’t Think He’s A Douchebag

This place is sort of secluded in the sense that it’s located in the Upper West Side and I only go there when I visit my lone friend who lives in isolation UWS and she threatens to put me in her burn book if I don’t come out with her. The place itself reeks of moldy beer and people trying to reclaim their college days. But what makes this bar special is the type of douchebags who frequent it. Because it’s v far from civilization lower Manhattan, all the bros who hang out up there actually don’t consider themselves pieces of shit. You know the type I’m talking about. The kind who think they’re too mature for 13th Step and talk about this frequently as they drink Natty Lite and spill shit on the purse you just fucking bought. That’s what we’re dealing with here. I suggest only going to this bar if you can tolerate high levels of bullshit. Think Spencer Pratt trying to sell you on the healing powers of crystals bullshit. 

Spencer Pratt

6. The Frying Pan

Location: Chelsea
Type of Douchebag: The Wannabe Yacht Owner Douchebag

I want to like The Frying Pan, I do. On paper it’s got everything: the ideal outdoor setting, the view of Jersey (?), and the potential for my photos to get a ton of Instagram likes. It’s a basic bitch’s boats and hoes dream. But I just cannot with the patrons there. The guys are decked out in clearance section J.Crew (ew) and I have seen multiple girls on multiple occasions wearing pearls. Unironically. And on too many separate occasions for it to be considered a coincidence. The vibe they’re trying very hard for is old Southern money—and as someone born and raised in the South let me just say, Steel Magnolias they are not. Go to this bar if you want to deal with bros from Jersey fronting like they’re Jay fucking Gatsby.  But also, like, I’ll do anything for the Insta so you will def see me there come summer. 

7. Brass Monkey

Location: Meatpacking
Type of Douche: The Rich AF Foreign Douchebag

Ah, the Meatpacking district. The place where I take the best Instagram pics at the price of having to socialize with douchebags wearing gold chains. It’s got a very European vibe to it in the sense that your wallet will 100% be stolen by the end of the night and you’ll def get hit on by a Saudi Arabian prince (or so he claims) who wants to buy you a drink for the evening. That being said, Brass Monkey is trendy AF with a bangin’ rooftop that will def be the background of your new profile picture. The only catch is the douchebags you’ll have to put up with throughout the night who feign a language barrier every time you say the words “GTFO of my face.” Think Jean-Ralphio but with less class and more money.

Jean-Ralphio Saperstein

8. Houston Hall

Location: West Village
Type of Douchebag: The DTF Douchebag
I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Houston Hall. Located in the heart of the West Village, it’s douchey AF with a mix of fratty young professionals and NYU students with really good fakes. How do I know this? Because after consuming a few very hefty mugs of beer I may or may not have taken home a 19-year-old lacrosse player. Sadly, he had to return to school to finish his senior year otherwise I’m sure it would have turned into a promising Snapchat relationship v epic love story. Which brings me to my other point, people at this bar are DTF for reals.


On the surface it doesn’t seem like that kind of place, considering it’s a giant beer hall that quietly plays Top 40 hits and its standard patronage is white dudes in khakis, but don’t let its outer appearance fool you. It could be the massive beers or the fact that you have to fight gladiator-style through a large crowd for said beers, but there’s a sense of camaraderie there that you won’t find in other douchebag dens bars. It’s kind of like a middle school dance, except instead of awkwardly grinding to a Chris Brown song you’re awkwardly trying to eye fuck the hottie in Patagonia pullover while suggestively sipping a large amount of beer. And it works like an obvious ploy to get laid a charm. Seriously, though, every time I go there someone in my friend group lands themselves a fuckboy for the evening and that is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Ryanne Probst
Ryanne Probst
Ryanne wants you to know that her name is pronounced “Ryan” and that this is her childhood trauma. Formerly published as “It’s Britney, Betch” she’s the resident recapper for all things ‘Bachelor.' When she’s not talking sh*t, she’s drinking $8 wine and contemplating ways to burn ABC studios down to the ground. Catch her on Instagram (@ryprobst) where she’s either posting pictures of her dog or sliding into the DMs of former reality TV dating stars (you know who you are).