Plug Uglies/Boar's Head: I've Made a Terrible Realization

Location: Three street stretch on 3rd Ave. between 20th and 23rd.

It's summer time in New York! I finally have an ID! And no expendable cash, but whatever! Why not explore the bars in the neighborhood where I will have spent three years of my life? And so I did...

A couple of weeks ago, Val invited me and Erin to come out to a bar where she was hanging out. How convenient, I thought, this bar is only two blocks away. We get there--first of all, there is a SEVEN dollar cover. Fortunately for them, I was so excited that my ID worked that I decided to proceed. Also it was the beginning of the month, and I am short-sighted as fuck, so I just decided to whimsically spend, dance like nobody's watching etc...

Anyway, I can't really tell you how much drinks cost there since I didn't have to pay because of Val's very gracious friends, but I'm assuming that if I had seen the bill, my reaction would have been similar to the following:

(870): This bar receipt from last night makes no sense
(573): You were wasted and got mad that it was too high so you subtracted 50 bucks in the tip line from the total
(870): I wish that would've worked

Regardless, Erin and I stuck out--as Erin said, we did not have shoulder length hair, Ann Taylor-like shift dresses, sparkly clutches, hella lipgloss, and a generally pervasive nostalgic desire to return to college. (That said, later that night, Erin claimed that a really big blanket with butterflies on it was "for the baby who has everything.")

A couple of nights later, Kelly was in town with her friends, and as always, IDs were an issues. Still! we were saved by Plug Uglies, a neighborhood and underage-friendly bar. Also apparently deaf-friendly because the music there was unbelievably loud. Music should only be this loud if Journey or Queen or Britney or NSYNC is playing. Otherwise, it just doesn't make any sense. What also didn't make any sense was the fact that a group of drunken bros with salaries that were hanging out at the bar cut the pant legs off of their friend's pair of Dockers, thereby turning them into peddle pushers. (For the yuppie who has everything.) At some point, a group of people came in dancing what looked like a traditional Greek dance. By that time, we had made up biographies for all the bar's visitors, and decided to leave.

Conclusion: Avoid, unless you don't like interacting with the people you hang out with.