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You never know in the
West Village. I stood outside Johnny's in the sweltering pre-noon
heat deciding what and where I was walking into. It had a man's name,
but wasn't The Tool Box or Waterworks or Magnum or anything. It looked
like a dive, which would normally be my thang, but who trusts a dive
in the West Village at eleven in the morning? Finally heat and an
overwhelming need for a beer drove me through the door--potential
awkward social situation be damned. Not only did they turn out to
be open (and as divey as anyone could ever hope to be), the bartender
had a smile going and ice-cold beer on tap. I sat luxuriating in the
air conditioner and soaking the place in. That took all of about 3.5
seconds. I mean the place looks tiny on the outside, but the inside
space itself could house about five people on one side of the bar
and one to two others on the bartender side before quickly becoming
the E train at rush hour. A couple minutes into my imbibing two FotBs
(friends of the bartender) came in, pushing us quickly towards maximum
capacity. They kibitzed about work and stuff (he purported to be a
bicycle courier, I think, though he didn't seem to be couriering anything
,and the other guy may have been his brother--or just his "brother")
and the bartender bantered with them while some guy who I assume was
the owner or manager hauled booze around in front of the nasty little
bathroom. The bar mirror and its surroundings were covered with notes
and coasters and general nick knacks from top to bottom, and the place
itself has a throwback dive feel that can only exist in NYC. The whole
thing reminded me of a Replacements song for some reason. Not one
song in particular, just that overarching "life wasted"
theme. Rumor has it some celebs slum it here (but where ever would
their entourages sit!?) but I have trouble imagining that. [MF]
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