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- Bongo
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If you can’t make it into Cain—or one of the numerous other clubs along far West 27th Street—fall back to this well-conceived retro lounge two minutes away. At Bongo, which looks like it might’ve belonged to a playboy astronaut circa 1960, they don’t care what you’re wearing. The main room is very small, which prevents it from becoming another West Chelsea scene, and the colorful fruit cocktails and Kumamoto oysters are a great way to salve bruised egos. Regroup here when you’re tired of pushing and shoving to get past the velvet rope.






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