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Old livers don't die; they get pickled—if they're lucky. And many organs have met their fate at this shotgun hole-in-the-wall space. Legend has it that jazz great Dexter Gordon was a regular back when the bar was located in the Holland Welfare Hotel on 42nd Street, but these days, the only stars you'll see are those in your eyes if you foolishly engage the wrong wino in conversation. So keep to your drink and enjoy the putting-on-the-hits novelty of the varied jukebox. While the clientele is surprisingly mixed, the same can't be said for the all-bottom-shelf liquor cabinet. Your best buy is a cold pint. — Peter Landau