As someone who’s braved the streets of New York for several years now (someone please buy me a medal), I can confidently say that living in New York certainly has its perks. Like, waking up every morning to the smell of fresh garbage and urine or slowly losing the will to live one MTA train delay at a time. Also, I guess we have some good bars too. How else are we to cope with 50 percent of our paychecks going to 20 feet of cubic space in an apartment in the shittiest part of Brooklyn than by drinking our sorrows away with $11 Bud Lights? The city! It’s magical here! If you can imagine, not all bars are as great as I just made them out to be. While some bars have hot AF clientele (re: hot husband material, beautiful douchebags, generally attractive humans), other bars have bigger red flags than my Hinge suggested matches. Luckily for you betches, my standard for bars pretty much begins and ends at “is it open?” So here’s a list of all the trashiest NYC bars you should f*cking run from should anyone suggest it. Learn from my mistakes. I’m super giving like this.
Hair Of The Dog
Location: East Village
Biggest Red Flag: That it’s patrons think it’s socially acceptable to dry hump ON THE FLOOR
I literally wish I made this up. I’m telling you rn the things I have seen at this hedonistic den of sin cannot be unseen. This establishment is what the kids these days call a “trap house” disguised as college sports bar. Located in the East Village, it doesn’t matter what time of day you show up at at this place, you can always find at least one person vomiting in the bathroom sink and/or belligerently dry-humping in the corner. I’m not even exaggerating when I say that I’ve seen a couple start hooking up by the beer pong table, topple over onto the floor AND CONTINUE HOOKING UP. Look, am I saying I don’t frequently hang out at this establishment? I am not. But I
like to sabotage my life and happiness can never say no to a place that sells $12 pitchers. We all have our crosses to bear!
Biggest Red Flag: The line for the bathroom
The Woods is fine during the day, but at night this chill hangout spot gets sketchy AF. Like, watch your drink sketchy AF. The crowd shifts from Brooklynites searching for some sliver of outdoor space to people who think that visiting a bar in Williamsburg will up their street cred. Think: the place where frat bros come after they’ve been kicked out of every bar in Manhattan… before midnight, and girls who think it’s “edgy” to drink ciders. If you like to get propositioned with coke in line for the bathroom then you’ll probs love this place, but if you like drinking literally anywhere else in an environment that’s not filled with literal sea creatures, then maybe try someplace else. Idk.
Location: Greenwich Village
Biggest Red Flag: That there’s a stripper pole in the middle of the bar
Where do I effing begin with this place? First of all, Greenwich Village is one of my favorite areas in the city, and the fact that this establishment dare bring A PIRATE THEME to this otherwise chic AF environment is a crime against humanity. Yes, you heard me right, this bar is entirely pirate themed. And while that in itself should be a reason for no human with working eyes and ears to ever step foot in this abomination, there’s actually even more disturbing sh*t that happens here. Like the fact that there’s karaoke and A STRIPPER POLE in the middle of the goddamn building. There’s also beer pong in the back! You know, in case you didn’t already humiliate yourself enough with your belligerent rendition of “Baby Got Back” while using the stripper pole as a prop to showcase your immeasurable talents. So, what I’m saying is, I guess there’s something for everyone here.
^^ actual footage of things I’ve seen go down at this bar
Location: Midtown East
Biggest Red Flag: Its patrons
I generally try and stay below 34th street, because upper Manhattan is about as easily accessible from my Brooklyn apartment as the Moon. That said, every once in a while I’m forced into going out in that area by my one friend who’s always telling me how “fun” midtown is and how all the “hot guys” frequent those bars. First of all, I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life than when I showed up to her beloved Turtle Bay only to be surrounded by what can only described as a mix between a 30-year-old frat bro and a Jersey Shore club extra. (I must have come on a good night, because any other night it’s literally just college kids with fakes.) These are the kinds of dudes who show up at happy hour and immediately start pounding shots of Jäger before they have to catch the last train back to Jersey. Charming. If you’re into meat heads, then by all means
ruin your life hang out at this bar. The free happy hours you can “win” (by just showing up one time and being female) are tempting, but just be aware that there was a recent stabbing—STABBING!—at this cesspool of an establishment earlier in the summer. Literally the NY Post agrees with us on this one—please just stay away.
Images: @mdisc /Unsplash.com; Giphy (2)
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.
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.
6. The Frying Pan
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
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.
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.