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The kids have wood.
Well, the students have cedar, at least. And by the looks of this
place, it took a whole forest of those big boys to build it. Such
a quintessential college bar (in a good, worn table, pitchers, dudes
wearing scarves indoors type of way), this joint almost tips the irony-o-meter
into the farce zone. Given its proximity to NYU, it's no wonder its
youngish, arty crowd-on-a-budget hunkers down every night to enjoy
beer and bar munchies in the vaguely mission-style cure for what ails
you. There were other afterwork slobs like myself in there as well,
and they looked just as pleased to be sitting in a place without suede
ottomans as I was. We must have looked flush with cash, as our beers
were kept full, our food arrived on time and still relatively warm
and nobody tossed us out on our heads for being old turds. Apparently
Bob Dylan once took a dump here or something--a fact that didn't necessarily
make my burger taste any better, but at least gave us some perspective
on how uncool things truly are these days. I mean do we really think
the voice of Gen X or Y was sitting there penning the next "Blowin'
in the Wind" on his titanium Mac laptop while drinking a Sam
Adams Cherry Wheat beer? Somehow I doubt it. [MF]
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