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How Union Pool Became the Horny Utopia of 2000s Williamsburg
Classic cocktails are the drinks that have stood the test of time. They are the blueprints on which all other cocktails are based. Signature cocktails are created by top-flight bartenders as well as the staff of Supercall. Some are seasonal, some are whimsical. All are designed to wow your guests with mixocological magic. Between the Classic cocktails you know and Signature drinks created by pros lie Standard Deviations: clever riffs on iconic recipes that'll expand your repertoire—without trying your patience. Instead, try it the old fashioned way: By meeting someone at a bar. Monday is our favorite night to go; you get to skip insanity and long waits of a weekend night and get to experience Reverend Vince and the Love Choir , whose frenetic jams and James Brown-esque dance moves have inspired many faithful followers.
The enduring charm of a dive bar where everyone feels like they might get laid. In , I moved to Brooklyn from Oakland, leaving behind a cheap apartment and a nice boyfriend who patiently agreed to enter into a long-distance relationship while I went off to forge a career in magazines. Ah, yes. And in the immediate hours of my breakup devastation, I went back to Union Pool for the exact reason everyone knows to go to Union Pool. But it was also one of the only bars around, and, as such, the grimy corner it occupied became a Williamsburg center at a time when Williamsburg was still very cool and hip and full of good-looking cool and hip people. The booze was cheap because it had to be.
Metallic, domed hair dryers and original salon-style chairs lined up against a wall make for a hyper-specific retro aesthetic. Sultry lighting and a robust drink menu, however, take Beauty Bar to the next level, making it an alluring destination for those looking to get it on. Or those looking to laugh it off—there are weekly free stand-up comedy shows with appealing drink specials. Mood Ring defies expectations.
The 25 best hookup bars in NYC
When I was growing up, my recently-divorced mother had a group of recently-divorced friends who all used to go out and try to meet men together. All of them were looking for love — or whatever rough approximation of it that they could fit in between work, family, and some surprisingly contentious PTA meetings — but my mother had one friend who seemed to be looking a little harder than everyone else. Her name was Lydia, and her drive for companionship seemed to make her a bit of a pariah among the singles mixer crew all of whom were legit looking for second husbands like it was their second job. How could I tell that Lydia was "desperate," as my mom often described her? Because Lydia went to bars by herself.