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Oh boy! No, we mean
it, they're everywhere. . . and most of them are making out with each
other. So, if you like your bartenders beefy, your clientele thin,
neat and under 40, this is the place to be. Despite the mostly male-bonding
flavor of this lounge, there can be found the occasional hetero chick
in the corner crying in her beer about how life isn't fair. Any wayward
frat boys wandering down to this meat packing/West Village haunt are
going to find it a little hard to watch football without any TV's,
but they'll certainly like the half-time show. [MF]
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