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Aside from the stained glass windows and wooden pews turned booths, it's kind of hard to compare The Abbey to a church. The long, narrow room has been used as a bar since 1937, and it shows: everything seems to be coated in a thin film of beer, including the staff. And there’s nothing cloistered about the hard-drinking clientele—unless, of course, they’re all secretly novitiates of some boozy secret sect, one that worships free popcorn. Unlike more traditional religious orders, the Abbey attracts and welcomes devotees of all ages, races, genders and sexualities. The weeknight boy-crowd that used to hang out exclusively here now divides its allegiance between more recent additions to the gay scene, but thug-chic lesbians have picked up some of the slack. Sundays are still the gayest night to go. — Emily Gould