LOVE AT THE BOWERY BAR, PART I

“It’s Friday night at the Bowery Bar. It’s snowing outside and buzzing inside. There’s the actress from Los Angeles, looking delightfully out of place in her vinyl gray jacket and miniskirt, with her gold-medallioned, too-tanned escort. There’s the actor, singer, and party boy Donovan Leitch in a green down jacket and a fuzzy beige hat with earflaps. There’s Francis Ford Coppola at a table with his wife. There’s an empty chair at Francis Ford Coppola’s table. It’s not just empty: It’s alluringly, temptingly, tauntingly, provocatively empty. Its so empty that it’s more full than any other chair in the place. And then, just when the chair’s emptiness threatens to cause a scene, Donovan Leitch sits down for a chat. Everyone in the room is immediately jealous. Pissed off. The energy of the room lurches violently. This is the romance of New York.”

*read more of Candice Bushnell’s brilliant boo, Sex and the City, here.

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Beyond the obvious Candice Bushnell references to the Bowery Bar; I celebrated my (urgh, let’s see here…) 22nd birthday here.  And, although I’m watching the snow melt, I recall that night fondly. Outside under the car lot colored lights with dirty martinis, Silver Patron margaritas and salty Kumamoto oysters.  The B Bar is mainstay and although the neighborhood is long gone (the Bowery in general) from the Sex and the City days, hijacked to mass retail and boutique hotels, it’s still a nice place to drop by for a drink, even during winter’s stay.

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