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Reynold’s Cafe

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If you were born and raised in a neighborhood, it would make sense that you would know the neighborhood you grew up in like the back of your hand. That sometimes doesn’t always turn out to be the case. You have places like bars, lounges or adult stores that aren’t accessible to you as a child. Reynolds Cafe was that one place I was not allowed access to.

For two decades I had always wondered what this place looked like on the inside. When passing by it I always tried to catch a glimpse of it but the gloomy bar was too dark to make out any clear distinctions.

Finally, when I was of legal age to enter this once forbidden zone, I found myself in the 1970’s (in a good way, of course). Reynolds Cafe has a very old school feel to it. From the atmosphere to the music to the clientele, but what sets it apart and makes it unique is Jimmy, the bartender.

At a glance, Jimmy appears to be a frail man who is just too old to be working at a bar. On the contrary, Jimmy is a wise man who has seen and experienced a lot. His edgy demeanor commands respect from the regulars. He’s almost like a father figure. Although he might seem cold at times, he can warm up to you and on occasion he might serve you a round on the house.

Guys, if you’re looking to pick up women this isn’t that type of bar. If you already have a lady friend, you better be sure she has an old soul or she’s open minded because this place lacks sex appeal. It’s more of an “I’m going to drink with the guys” type of bar.

As far as prices, well, they’re a broke-ass dream come true. The beers go for five bucks and most shots will run you about the same price.

Reynolds is that bar that will always be open. How do I know? Where do you think I was when Hurricane Irene was supposed swallow New York whole?

Reynold’s Cafe
4241 Broadway (between 180th St & 181st St)
[Washington Heights]

Photo Credit: Dave H.

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Enrique Grijalva - Mr. Minimum Wage

Enrique Grijalva - Mr. Minimum Wage

My father came, my mother saw...and I conquered. I encourage children to do drugs, I buy alcohol for teenagers, and I drink beer with the homeless. In my spare time, I attend art galleries for the FREE booze while rubbing elbows with modish elephants. I also hammer six-inch nails into small penises. Stuart knighted me as Broke-Ass King of New York. You've been warned.


  1. […] My friend’s exact words were, “I feel bad for Jimmy (referring to the bartender at Reynold’s Bar), because I’m coming here from now on.” All this before we even bought a […]

  2. […] My friend’s exact words were, “I feel bad for Jimmy (referring to the bartender at Reynold’s Bar), because I’m coming here from now on.” All this before we even bought a […]

  3. B
    March 8, 2013 at 2:34 pm

    Ha! Thanks for writing this. I grew up across the street and recently moved back to the area and always try to sneak a peak. As a girl I don’t think I’ll go in anytime soon, but recently became obsessed with reading about online haha.