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

The Half King is my usual meet-up of choice with visiting out-of-towners, since it’s classy (impress them with your New York-ness!), right in front of steps leading up to the Highline (take a walk afterwards!), and they have a banging happy hour (don’t spend too much money entertaining them!). The wood-covered

  Mondays are anything but a laughing matter.  I don’t know about you, but after a weekend tarnished by a stormy Sunday, I kind of feel like I got screwed out of my non-work day fun.  What’s a girl to do when she has a major case of the Monday

A rock and roll speakeasy seems as much like an oxymoron as an affordable bourbon bar, but apparently both exist in a  hideaway under the trampled sidewalks of Alphabet City. Idle Hands was first brought to my attention not because of its over 150 different bourbons (!), or intense selection

Remember when you were little and you used to cross your legs while swimming and pretend you were a mermaid? And it even looked like you had a tail in your shadow, and that was the coolest? And you’d do it for like, hours? Remember? Well even if you don’t,

As I grow older and appreciate things like concert venues with seats and using a cold as an excuse to stay in on a Friday night, I find myself craving drinks beyond those that will get me black out drunk. Just kidding! But I understand that there are some folks

I pinky swear that I try to hit up new places. Blah blah blah variety is the spice of life or whatever.  But sometimes a gal just wants a staple, ya know? A place to imagine her own little Cheers-type scenario in which she’s not only greeted “hello” but also