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Even Mr. Hipster is
impressed by the number of hipsters in this joint. Odd little groups
of short bearded dudes in black, plastic glasses, pea coats and long
shoreman caps mingle with chicks in $200 strappy tops, those same
black glasses (maybe in tortoise) and regretful back tattoos. Throw
in your typical, hard NYC public relations biatches, who'd rather
be outside smoking than temporarily choking down that stack of pancakes,
and you pretty much have your crowd at Five Points. It's much more
pleasant than it sounds, but this is my recollection of the incredibly
young, attractive people I spied on my way to my cool booth. It was
ridiculous to the point where I felt that someone might call me ''sir''
at any moment--respect your elders and all. There was a pleasant back
room with what smelled like a fireplace, and the atmosphere in general
was relaxed but bustling. My steak sandwich was very tasty, and I
don't recall leaving with my wallet on fire. Overall this was a nice,
very New York experience that not only satisfied the appetite, but
the snobbish soul that lies inside of all true New Yorkers. [MF]
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