South’s: Where to dump your girlfriend. And have fries!

South’s, photo courtesy of Yelp

Visitors, even natives, to the city are constantly searching for the right place for special occasions.  Where’s the perfect lighting for a proposal? Which brunch restaurant have children’s menus? Can I get a birthday reservation at that Indian restaurant for Saturday?

But this is New York and there are a multitude of equally important, if less wholesome, events you don’t know you need a venue for until its too late. Whether you need a spot to hit on a Buddhist, an alley to change one’s pants in (it happens), or the best place to fix a fucked up haircut, we’re here to help.  For all the underrepresented occasions, we’re the right place for the wrong time.
We’ve passed 2012’s first weeks of self-delusion and new convictions.  View January in its harsh gray reality and acknowledge we’ve actually entering a period of dumping stuff! The Special K diet, that half-finished book of poetry which seemed to cry out for self-publishing on December 30th, and possibly, your significant other.

Its a season for hardening the heart against romance and brutal winter wind- I sat next to two girls at a coffee shop New Year’s Day as they each ate a latte and a Plan B for breakfast while  making plans for a BAM matinee in extremely bored tones.  Faced with the choice of a ‘Hell on Wheels’ marathon or taking the train to ‘the graphic design intern I’ve been hanging out with’ in Astoria in January? Does the fey and struggling AMC western win out?  Then its time for a tough choice.  For BrokeAss and MorallyBankrupt readers who need to dump the preschool dance teacher they met at that Christmas party, you need a venue uniting your inability to make eye contact, spend a lot of money, or, um, be an adult.  I recommend South’s Bar and Restaurant in TriBeCa.

Head to the back dining area for dinner (but really, are you getting past appetizers, shithead?) and score yourself a two-top that will be a onesie in ten minutes. Loud enough for the dumpee to make a scene without embarrassing you, but with tables too cozy for them to actually do it, they’re forced into a dignified exit. Plus everyone looks pretty with tears streaming down their face in candlelight, so its kind of a favor, right? And because you’re such a dreamboat and you calculated their lonely commute home, there’s six train lines nearby (we’ll cover ‘The Best Train to Cry On’ in a future installment).  On your way out,  smug, absolved and single, hit the irresistibly boisterous front bar.  Just make sure, out of decency, you’re at least 3 stools down from your new ex if they made a pit stop to drown their rejection in Glenlivet before getting on the C train.

Here, have a well deserved Magner’s, $6.00, and a snack because seriously, you were so, like, nauseous before dinner and wasn’t sure if it was the right decision and you didn’t want to hurt her and frankly, in the deepest most insecure recesses of your soul you desperately fear being alone and that’s why you act this way but holy shit you feel so much better and are actually, like, so hungry!  In any case, it’s a fabulous spot to buy a future rebound a whiskey and get a sardonic smackdown about your behavior from the gregarious, bespectacled bartender/owner Roger. He’ll make you hurt so good you’ll need a side of safeword with your nachos- $8.00 for a mountain of black beans, guacamole and pico.  Maybe he’ll even throw in some PJ Harvey to indulge your sexy new Blue Period. For all the mistakes made in this whirlwind, just make sure yours never include skipping South’s fantastic fries, $4.50. And know what? Since today’s your day, top ‘em with cheddar. Cheap and cheesy-  like you! LMAO. No, seriously, I hope your genitals burn off. Happy hunting, dick!

South’s Bar and Restaurant
273 Church Street @ White (right across the street from the Tribeca Grand Hotel- take a new friend there!)
NY NY 10013
212.219.0640
TriBeCa

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About the author

Nadine Friedman - Vice President of Snark

Nadine is a writer and photographer... so she is a bartender. Her focus is on compelling social issues, with a background directing award-winning, politically relevant theatre ( that's how you spell it when you win awards). She lives in Brooklyn, where its ok to yell at inanimate objects in the bike lane, practice one's headstand with faux modesty in public parks, pay $70 for a three foot Christmas tree and do juice diets under the pretense that it's for detox and not rapid weight loss. She loves her boyfriend, her tweezers, Amtrak and Fage yogurt.

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