Every so often-usually after a long day when the office drank all but half a mug’s worth of the coffee and I’m just too tired to fight–someone will convince me to go to a bar in Midtown. I will often offer to buy brown bag booze for all involved to

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t appreciate a good happy hour, the problem is I don’t actually get out of work til after all of them are over and then it’s back to $7 beers again.  Lucky for me, one of my favorite venues is now offering a happy hour

Like most people working in NYC, happy hour remains a mythical wonder mostly enjoyed by summer interns and college students. The rest of us *might* slide into the last 5 minutes of a special, panting with drops of sweat blurring our vision or what the discounted beers are, but will

Things I like: drinking, drinking outside, drinking on the cheap, drinking with fellow-minded attractive single people. I tend to prefer bars where all of the above can happen, but finding a comfortable in-between is difficult. Usually bars that are super cheap are also lacking in atmosphere (which is, fine, whatever,

There are a few reasons a person might drink six cans of shit beer in one sitting. Getting fired. Getting dumped. The United States losing to Ghana. Weekday afternoons. You know, truly heartbreaking shit. Luckily, like most necessities in this city, there is a bar for that. Floyd, which sits

I’m about to share what, in my estimation, is the greatest happy hour in this city. I know! I have no idea what you did to deserve this either. No matter, though – let’s get in there. Cabrito, which is Spanish for baby goat, is owned by the same people

I love happy hour, and not just at times when I have to check my bank balance before buying my monthly metrocard. The thought of people gathering with friends to release whatever tension has built up during eight hours at a shitty job ‘“ and, you know, drink ‘“ is