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The name refers either to the pistol Elvis is holding in the Warhol wallpaper or the fact that Rivington needs another rock lounge like it needs a hole in the head. Either way, this watering hole is far enough afield of the Ludlow strip to give weekend imbibers a good chance at snagging a stretch U-booth in the back, or a spot on one of the incredibly comfortable banquettes of cracked and bolted leather. Though the brick walls, silk window coverings, and candles imply bottle business, the menus at the low square tables simply offer a list of specialty cocktails. The drinks aren’t as cheap as you’d think from the D.J.’s indie and hip-hop cuts, but in a neighborhood where limo lizards swill PBR, “anything goes tonight,” as can be seen from the public access go-go pole—attached to a bar which former owner Robert Fautz of Burger Joint notes was salvaged from a North Philly thug dive. — Daniel Maurer