BoozeNew York

Soul II Soul: Ghetto Plastic Cups And An Ass Shakin’ Dance Floor

The Bay's best newsletter for underground events & news

Soul II soul is a bar I’ve been going to for years. Back when I used to live off the Gates stop, it was a place I went on my way home. I knew the the door man, Jimmy; I knew the owner, Easy, who would sit at the end of the bar and shout my name in his Nigerian accent as I walked through the door; and I knew all the regulars. I used to write poetry in this place! What was I thinking? Flashing lights everywhere, a disco ball, a stripper pole, loud music all night, weird stares, suspicious “Bed-Stuy do or die” characters, a frisk down at the door – God, help me!

Well, it wasn’t all a complete waste of time. The well drinks were, and still are, $3 (served in plastic cups, for class) and the PBR’s were $2. I don’t know if I got any good writing done at this spot, but I definitely got my drinks down and every so often some chick with braids, gold fronts and great big lips would escort me to the dance floor… But that’s a-whole-nother story.

I suggest going to this spot if you wanna get the $3 well drinks, smoke in the backyard and dance to ass poppin’ hot jams. It’s a great spot to go after you’ve had a few too many, and wanna get a night cap and dance yo’ ass off. But don’t act like a fool here, or you’ll know about it the hard way.

Soul II Soul
1186 Broadway (between Lafayette Ave. and Kossuth Pl.)

image from


Like this article? Make sure to sign up for our mailing list so you never miss a goddamn thing!
Previous post

Hypothesis: An Art/Science Fair

Next post

Election 2011: Emil Lawrence on Pulling Yourself Up From The Bottom, "Queers, Straights and Criminals", and Swensen's Ice Cream

Bobby Rich - Affordable Aficionado

Bobby Rich - Affordable Aficionado

Bobby dropped out of college at the age of 20, said goodbye to his papaw in the small town of Copper Hill, GA, and went to India, where he studied professional pauperism in ashrams and taught English to children. From New Delhi he flew to London, where emigration considered him a "vagabond with no roots to return to", and he was put on the first plane back to America. After finding himself in the freezing snows of Chicago, some guy at a bar offered him a job transporting a car to NYC, where he is currently stuck in Ridgewood, Queens. His travel website The Music Underground has helped many find the obscure in foreign lands.