When you’re young, broke and beautiful and living in (or adjacent to) Manhattan there are a lot of great dive bars just a subway stop away. From a tatted up staff to a punk rock mosh pit by the kitchen these are the bars that wear their history on their

By Kate Hoos Some people might be under the impression that the phrase “punk is dead” may be true, but it most definitely is not. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you heard some seriously fake news. What is true, is that in the squeeze of a rapidly gentrifying city-

Happy Hour – those two words can make my face light up like a child who just got her first taste of Halloween candy. In other words, I’m a big fan, and thank goodness I live in a city where it’s always Happy Hour somewhere. Sometimes, though, I find myself

Walk down St.Marks Place on any given evening and you’re bound to see the usual mix of crust-punks hanging onto a scene that nolonger exists, hordes of NYU students in search of half-price sushi, and tourists picking over counterfeit sunglasses embracing the “New York” experience.  While the street has gone

The world needs O’Connor’s more than O’Connor’s needs the world.  I say this because O’Connor’s lets us believe that there are still some things worth romanticizing.  How else would you describe a bar that opened in 1931 (prohibition wasn’t repealed until 1933) and who, as of a few proprietors ago,

The Holland Bar is a real dive bar where most people are regulars who aren’t worried about how cool or attractive or sober or sane they come off. They come here because there’s a decent jukebox with shit like Jim Croce, Sinatra, and the Stones, pints of Budweiser for $3,